


Emberbent: An Avatar Fanfiction

by emberbent



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Adventure, Eastern Air Temple (Avatar), F/M, Fire Nation (Avatar), Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gen, M/M, Multi, Northern Water Tribe, Other, Post-Canon, Republic City, Sun Warriors (Avatar)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2020-10-20 15:57:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 29,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20678024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emberbent/pseuds/emberbent
Summary: Emberbent is a slow-burn, multi-chapter series taking place after the death of the Avatar succeeding Korra. A non-bender struggling to get by in Republic City, OC Shinza Kwon learns on her twenty-seventh birthday that she is the Avatar. During her journey to full realization, she comes to terms with her duty, learns about the many forms that love takes, and fights to keep herself and the Avatar spirit alive.This story is an emotional journey, but with a moderate level of fluff. As a content warning, this story is largely safe for work, but some of it won't be; in addition, be warned that the story includes adult themes, language, and the usual cautions that come with that.





	1. The End [Book 1: Fire]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On her twenty-seventh birthday, Shinza Kwon is singled out as the Avatar - much to her surprise, considering she's not even a bender.

In the heart of Republic City, it was a smoggy, humid afternoon. Through the streets trudged languid couriers with their empty rickshaws behind them; capuchin cats sought shade beneath the parked Satomobiles that lined the curbs; vendors called out their wares - mostly cold treats to combat the oppressive summer heat. 

The General’s Tea House, the high street’s most popular tea joint during on-season, was scarcely populated today. The place smelled of wilted jasmine and salty sweat. Two old men sat at the bar, ignoring each other, wasting the afternoon away. A handful of university students studied at one of the tables in the sunken main area in front of the stage.

“Nobody wants hot tea on a hot day,” Shinza complained behind the sheer curtain that partitioned the stage from the back of the house. “Let’s just bail and get some ice cream.”

Behind her, Nero had already uncased her flute. “We need the money,” she reasoned. “Let’s just get it over with, and then I’ll buy you a birthday drink.” She passed Shinza on the way to the stage, bumping hips with her friend for a little confidence. The two had been friends since their days as students at Republic City University; it seemed like they had graduated so recently, but when Shinza stopped to think about how long it had been since that day, and how the two of them, like many others their age, hadn’t ever really found their careers, a black cloud seemed to grow over her head. Expelling a deep breath, Shinza followed Nero out onto the stage, slipping the strap of her guitar over her head. If nothing else, at least she could get lost in the song for a moment.

“Thank you,” Shinza said as she stepped in front of the microphone, in response to the solitary student sitting in the corner table who’d whistled at them. “Thanks. This one’s an old favorite - we hope you like it.”

What Shinza loved about performing with Nero is that the two of them seemed to be two gears in the same mechanism, turning effortlessly together toward the same goal. Nero brought her flute to her lips, and Shinza strummed the first note. Together, they produced an airy, dreamy rendition of Secret Tunnel, one which caught the attention of the two old men at the bar, who by anyone’s assessment might not have been impressed by much at all. By the end of the song, the men and the lone student cheered, with the others applauding on autopilot, not daring to break away from the books in front of them. 

Shinza and Nero bowed to their audience, slipping backstage to rest their instruments and take a quick interlude at the bar. “So, birthday girl,” Nero purred, sidling up and climbing into a bar stool. “What’ll it be?”

Shinza, much taller than her friend, perched on the stool beside her and pretended to scan the menu, although they both knew what she would order. “Mmm… pear sake.”

“What a surprise,” Nero teased. Then to the bartender, she said, “Make that two, please.”

Shinza settled, taking in the atmosphere of the place - the shuffling of pages turning; the idle sounds of the students clearing their throats or tapping their pens. Beside her, Nero shifted in her seat. “You’re going quiet on me,” she noted. “What’s up?”

“I don’t know,” Shinza shrugged. “I mean… That’s a lie. I do know. I’m twenty-seven, and this is what I have to show for it? This is what I’ve been doing with my life?”

She’d known her art degree wouldn’t amount to much, unless by some stroke of luck she could manage to become a famous artist, or maybe end up teaching at the university she’d graduated from. But those odds were long, and the competition too strong for those odds to play out in her favor. It had been a risk that hadn’t paid off. Her parents would have happily paid for her tuition, if she’d chosen to be a doctor like her mother had done. But she hadn’t, and now she was saddled with debt from a degree she didn’t use. Feeling aimless was what had brought her and Nero together in the first place, and it was a continuing feeling that they lacked any real value in society that had created such a strong bond between them.

“Hey,” Nero sounded in that famous mom-friend tone of hers. “Look, just because some people are lucky enough to have a passion for something that makes them money in life doesn’t mean we have it so bad. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Besides - we may not be rolling in cash, but I love performing with you. That has to count for something.”

“I do too,” Shinza replied. “I really do. I hope you know that. It’s just… I feel like I’m doing this in the meantime, you know? Whatever that means. I don’t even know what I’m waiting for.”

Behind them, a man and a woman entered the teahouse; neither Shinza nor Nero paid them any mind as the bartender slid them a jar of hot sake and two tiny cups, until the two approached the bar. “Shinza Kwon?” said the woman. “We need you to come with us.”

As Shinza swiveled to face them, it was immediately clear that they weren’t from around here. They wore the garments of Fire Nation officials - which she only happened to know from the Contemporary Fire Nation Studies class she’d taken, and from pictures her father’s family had sent from Fire Fountain City. 

“Uh…” Shinza squinted at them. How did they know her name?” “I’m sorry - why?”

The woman and her partner, in unison, placed their knuckles into their palms and bowed to her. “Ms. Kwon, it’s recently come to light that you’re the Avatar. You need to come with us immediately; a lot of time has been wasted already.”  
Was this a joke? Had Nero set up an elaborate prank on her to cheer her up?

“Hilarious,” Shinza noted. She wasn’t laughing. “I’m not even a bender. You’ve got the wrong person.”

“You’re Shinza Kwon,” the man recited. “Graduate of Republic City University? Daughter of Li Kwon, a retired United Forces captain, and Desa Kwon, a doctor? You live at Eighteen Dichi Street, apartment–”

“Yes,” Shinza stopped him. She felt as if she were melting into her seat. Around her, not a single patron was looking anywhere but at her and the Fire Nation officials. Most of them were slack-jawed; two of them bowed reverently. “That’s me. But I don’t understand. How can I–”

“Time is of the essence,” the man pressed. “Please, we need to get you to your destination.”

Shinza stared them down, as if maybe by sheer force of will, she could find the answer between the two of them. “Can I see some ID?”

The woman rolled her eyes and groaned, unfurling the official scroll - which, by scanning, Shinza came to learn was the official documentation summoning her to the Island of the Sun Warriors - complete with the Fire Lord’s seal.

“Good enough for me,” she said weakly, slipping down off her bar stool, leaving Nero with their untouched sake. Her friend’s dark eyes were wide and round, as if Shinza were a ghost. The officials took Shinza by the arms and gently but swiftly led her to the door. The two patrons who had bowed to her hadn’t lifted their heads yet; one patron who stood by the door made a point of rudely bumping into the three of them as they exited the establishment. The two tucked Shinza into their Sato, parked along the curb; the engine was still running as the woman slipped into the driver’s seat.

“So, hang on,” Shinza sounded. “Where exactly are we going? I don’t understand how you could possibly think I’m the Avatar.”

“We have intel,” the man reported, as if that answered everything. “We’re taking you to the Island of the Sun Warriors so you can start your training immediately. You’re… very behind.”

“When? Like, now?”

“Yes. Right now.”

“But wait, what about my apartment? What about my capuchin cat?”

“We’ll make arrangements for you. Don’t worry.”

Panic began to swell in her chest as the Sato pulled out into traffic, going notably above the speed limit as they dodged other Satos, rickshaws, and people alike. “Can I at least say goodbye to my parents? So they know where I’m going? Please, they just live two blocks from here.”

The two officials looked at each other. “Fine,” said the woman.

They reached her parents’ apartment building, stopping along the curb. “Just hang back here. I’ll only be a second.”

“No. We’re coming with you,” said the man.

Shinza blinked at him for a second and then sighed as she opened the door and slid out of the vehicle and onto the sidewalk. Whoever these people were, their job seemed strictly never to let her out of their sight. Before they entered the building, Shinza pressed the buzzer mounted on the bricks. “Mom? Dad? It’s me. Can you let me in?”

“Hi, baby,” said her mother’s voice. “Everything okay? Come on up.”

_Was_ everything okay? Shinza felt dizzy as the officials led her through the door and into the elevator car. The confinement of the space seemed both to clear her head and make her even dizzier. At last, the bell sounded and the doors slid open, revealing her parents’ floor. Shinza led the officials to the correct door, and she rang the doorbell.

It seemed like days passed between when she heard the sound of the bell and when her mother finally answered the door. But when she did, as soon as she saw her Shinza framed by two Fire Nation officials, she grew pale, understanding in an instant what was happening. 

“Mrs. Kwon,” said the man flanking Shinza. “Your daughter is the Avatar. She requested we come visit you on our way to the Fire Nation.”

The door slowly swung open wider; behind her mother, her father caught sight of the three in the doorway. Despite his bad leg, using his cane, he found his way onto one knee, bowing reverently the way they did in his homeland.  
“Mama,” Shinza said evenly, despite finding herself suddenly blinded by her own tears. “I don’t understand.”

“Go with them, child,” said her father as he painstakingly made his way back to his feet. 

“But what about Bao? I’m going to lose my apartment.”

“Don’t worry,” said her mother, placid as the moon, as she wiped away tears with her long sleeve. “We’ll go get Bao. He can live with us.”

The man nudged Shinza. “We have to go.”

“I’ll be in touch,” Shinza called to both of her parents, although she wasn’t sure whether that was strictly accurate. Her parents gazed down the hall at the three of them from the open doorway, her mother blowing a kiss. “We love you, Shinza,” she said. “No matter what.”

Back in the Sato, Shinza wiped tears off her face, embarrassed at having let her emotions gain control of her, especially in front of two people she didn’t even know. As they pulled away from the curb, the city passed them by in a blur. Shinza felt somehow, despite having grown up here and being as familiar with the streets and the shops and apartments along them as the veins on the backs of her hands, she was suddenly a stranger here. The ride was silent for a long time as they left downtown and headed for the port, just on the outskirts.

The man turned around in the passenger seat to face Shinza. “I’m sorry this all happened so quickly. But you should know that you’re doing the right thing. You’ve lost a lot of time, but it’s not your fault. I’m Zhang, by the way, and that’s Mai.”

“Hey,” said Mai, chancing a glance at Shina in the rearview mirror.

“We’re taking you to a boat bound for the island,” said Zhang, “Once we’re there, you’ll start your training.”

“Nice to, uh… meet you, I guess,” said Shinza. She still didn’t know how they could possibly have her, a non-bender, confused for the Avatar. But she had a feeling Zhang and Mai didn’t know, either. For how quickly the trip to her parents’ place seemed to go by, the journey to the port seemed to take an eternity.

“You want some music?” asked Mai, her hand hovering over the radio dial in the dash.

“No,” Shinza replied. “Thanks.”

After what seemed like an eternity in a car with two strangers, the coast finally crept in from the horizon. The air smelled salty as they pulled into a lot that housed the Satos of people boarding the boats that lined the docks. Mai and Zhang came around to collect Shinza, who had already slid out from the back seat.

“I know it’s annoying,” said Mai as she and Zhang took their positions on either side of her. “But surely you’ve heard of everything happening with The Org. We can’t risk anything happening to you. Especially now, when you’re not trained yet.”

The three of them made their way to a dock, at which a sizable travel vessel with the Fire Nation flag waving proudly from its mast sat waiting for them to board. Ahead of them, several families, single adults, and a few unaccompanied children queued along the wooden ramp, each with their tickets ready. She and her escorts didn’t have tickets; the scroll with the Fire Lord’s seal was more than enough to grant them passage.

Shinza had heard of The Org, and had seen the flyers that littered the streets after their periodic demonstrations. She’d even heard whispers that what went on inside the group was much more dangerous than what most people knew about. But the truth was that she’d never concerned herself with the Avatar or whatever The Org had against them. What business was it of hers? Apparently, now, it was very much her business. As Mai flashed the scroll at the person permitting entry, Shinza wished she’d bothered to give a damn when she’d had the chance.

With one last look behind her at the view of Republic City, Shinza boarded the boat, feeling that somehow this marked the end of her life as she had always known it.


	2. The Firebending Master [Book 1: Fire]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shinza's thoughts are heavy as she leaves Republic City, bound for the Island of the Sun Warriors, where she meets with her firebending instructor.

The sun set rapidly over Yue Bay. From the deck of the ship, Shinza caught a glimpse of the blaze of orange that had overtaken the sky, raging like an ember for only a few moments. Then, like the rest of the day, it was over in the blink of an eye. She stood along the railing as the boat took her from the docks of Republic City to her destination. Her father hailed from Fire Fountain City; his family made sure every year to send letters and pictures to him, and he’d done his best to foster what interest she’d shown in her heritage, but Shinza herself had never been to the Fire Nation. 

She stood along the railing for a long time, her mind out of focus as it tried to sort out everything that had happened that day. The salty wind lapped at her skin and hair. The moon cast her glow over the glistening water and on Avatar Aang Memorial Island. She’d seen it before once or twice, on one school field trip or another, but it never struck her like it did now. As the boat rushed past, Aang stood vigil over the city, staff in hand, eyes looking toward the future he’d worked so hard for. Shinza felt a weariness, somehow deeply familiar, as if she was coming home from a long journey. Slowly becoming aware of this, she came back to the present, staring at the back of Aang’s head. 

She was him once, she realized.

Shinza finally made her way down the starboard side, hand on the railing to steady herself against the waves. Along the ship, dolphin-seals leapt out of the water. Mai and Zhang were somewhere, she knew. They were keeping their distance to be polite, but she could feel their eyes on her.

“Avatar Shinza,” said a small woman, who had approached her and bowed. “Your room is ready. I’ll escort you.”

“Thank you.” She was too tired to insist that she didn’t need to bow or escort her anywhere. Instead, she followed, suddenly aching for bed. 

The woman slid a key card into the slot and opened the door, allowing Shinza into a room whose opulence caused her to gasp aloud. “This is you,” said the woman, slipping Shinza the card. “My name is Feng. Please, if you need anything at all, ask for me and I’ll be happy to serve you.”

The woman bowed again and was off down the corridor before Shinza could say anything. She slipped into the room and closed the door, steadying herself against the gentle rocking of the ship as she took in the decor. She never would have been able to afford something like this herself, and the fact that she hadn’t really done anything to deserve this made itself apparent, like a rock in her shoe. On the bed sat a neatly folded pair of silk pajamas, burgundy in color, with the Fire Nation insignia embroidered on the back. Idly, she slipped out of the clothes she’d worn that day - tight-fitting pants, flat shoes, and a tank top - and draped them over the back of the chair at the desk, slipping gratefully into the pajamas and then into the luxurious covers.

Her lids instantly fell closed; behind them, she saw visions of Nero, staring in shock, and her parents’ faces as they waved to her from their doorway.

Morning came, and it took a moment to remember where she was. Shinza sat up in bed, flinching as a beam of sunlight came directly in through the window, obscuring her vision. The smell of breakfast suffused the ship; just in time, a knock came at the door. 

“Come in,” Shinza called blearily. 

Feng entered with a tray of food, followed by an assistant with a clothing bag draped over his arm. “Good morning, Avatar,” Feng chirped. “I hope you slept well. We’ll be docking in a few hours; I brought you some breakfast and a change of clothes. This is what you should wear when we arrive at the Island of the Sun Warriors.”

“Thank you,” Shinza replied. Seemed like the only two words she’d said to the woman so far. Feng and her assistant exited the room, leaving Shinza to make her way out of bed and pad over to the tray, which was filled with the most delicious-looking food she’d ever seen. Realizing with a loud rumble of her stomach that she hadn’t eaten dinner last night, she quickly ate her breakfast and drank her tea, feeling like she was starting to come alive.

The bag waited for her. Slowly, she pulled down the zipper and peeled back the flap, revealing the outfit inside: maroon-colored trousers, loose and terminating at the knee; a matching, cropped, sleeveless top, tight-fitting; a gold sash; a set of red sleeves for her forearms and calves and a collar of the same material; and a set of gilded armbands. She’d seen this type of clothing in a textbook, but never in her life did she think she’d ever get to wear anything like this - let alone see the Island of the Sun Warriors herself.

Reverently, she laid out the clothing and slipped out of her pajamas, catching a glimpse of herself in the full-length mirror near the desk. It was the first time she’d seen herself since the previous morning, and it occurred to her now that everyone - the entire world - would be looking to her now. But she knew so little yet, and she looked undeniably like she didn’t know what she was doing. 

Shinza was tall - 5’9”, said her mother, but she knew she was just a hair taller than that. She had her mother’s deep, red-brown eyes, her grandmother’s delicate, symmetrical face, and her father’s slender build. A constellation of freckles occupied the low bridge of her nose. Her hair, fine and black and shiny, didn’t quite touch her shoulders, with short bangs that framed her face. Across her hands, forearms, and torso, her pale skin bore faint purple scars from an accident that had happened in her childhood, too early for her to remember.

Putting on the Sun Warrior clothing and pulling her hair up into a topknot, Shinza still looked a little lost and new, but if she squinted hard enough, she could imagine herself as a seasoned, powerful firebender. Still, the fact remained, which she hadn’t yet been able to properly address: she was incapable of bending fire.

The boat docked a few hours later. Feng came to collect her and bring her to Mai and Zhang near the ramp that led down onto the dock, clucking with delight at having had the privilege to serve the Avatar. “I hope you found everything to your liking,” she said.

“I did, thank you,” Shinza replied. “But why am I being treated so well? I haven’t even done anything yet.”

Feng looked up at her and smiled. “Yes, you have.” 

With that, the woman bowed and left her alone with her transporters, who looked like proud older siblings as they intercepted her. “Look at you,” Mai noted, looking impressed and giving a little brow wiggle. “You look like you belong on the island. You ready?”

“We’ll walk you down to the dock, and then from there, you’ll be in the custody of the Sun Warriors,” said Zhang. “This is as far as we go with you.”

“It’s been a pleasure serving you,” Mai added. “We really do wish you the best of luck.”

The two took their places flanking Shinza and walked her down the wooden ramp. Custody? Shinza began to wonder if she had any say in this, or whether she could walk away if she wanted to. Something told her she couldn’t, but it didn’t matter: she wanted to see how far this path went. When would they realize they had the wrong person? At the end of the ramp, two Sun Warriors, neither older than twenty, approached and greeted the three of them. 

“Avatar Shinza,” boomed one of the two. “Welcome to the island. We’ll be bringing you to your firebending teacher. But we need to hurry; you’re already late, and the master does _not_ like to be kept waiting.”

Shinza bowed in thanks, turning toward Mai and Zhang, who looked like they wanted to hug her. “We’ll see you around,” said Zhang. “Good luck.” He and Mai headed back up the ramp, and Shinza followed the two warriors inland.

The walk to the temple was short, and the warriors didn’t have much to say to her. Then, when they arrived, they left her alone. She hadn’t felt nervous since her transporters had picked her up in Republic City; worried, sure, and maybe a little annoyed at the sudden upheaval of her life and everything she thought she knew. But now, she was nervous. In what elaborate ways would she disappoint the master with her lack of bending? Would he chew her out for being late? Outside the entryway, she quickly straightened herself out and entered.

The temple was a large room inside a stepped pyramid, covered wall-to-ceiling with ancient, well-preserved murals. Some appeared to be stories: the origin of the dragons, the formation of the Sun Warriors themselves. Others were sacred firebending forms. In the middle of the room, with his back turned to her, stood the firebending master. He was dressed similarly to Shinza; with nothing covering his torso, the sunlight that shot through the entryway illuminated his bronze skin and carved shadows in his muscled back. He seemed to be deep in thought, hands balled into fists at his side. His left leg stopped just below his knee, and where the lower half might have been was an intricately and purposefully designed metal prosthesis.

“Excuse me,” Shinza called. “Sifu? I’m sorry I’m late.”

The man turned; the seriousness in his face dissipated and was replaced by a genuine grin, which reached all the way to his dark eyes. “Hey!” he called, practically jogging over as if Shinza was an old friend of his, and bowed. “Glad you made it. I’m Amrit.”

The confusion was apparent on her face. “Uh… yes. Thanks. Me too.”

Amrit snorted. “What’d they tell you? That I’m harsh? That you’d better be early, because early is on time, and on time is late?”

“I mean, yeah,” Shinza replied. “That’s pretty much exactly what they said.”

Amrit waved it off. “Ah, those two were class clowns. They deserved whatever punishment I doled out. Come on in, let’s get started.”

Shinza followed him into the middle of the room, letting out a deep breath of relief. Amrit quickly sized her up. “Okay, so what are we working with here? Show me some fire.”

“That’s the thing,” Shinza replied. “I keep trying to tell people I’m not a firebender, and no one will listen. I think I’m wasting your time, to be honest.”

“It’s easy to let yourself think you’re not a firebender if you can’t do the high-level stuff yet,” Amrit replied. “It’s okay, just show me what you know. Any little flicker you can muster. This is just an assessment.”

Frustration welled up inside her, but she took a deep breath and ran through a simple form she’d watched her father do, back before he’d retired. At the end, she pushed her hands outward, but no flames came from her palms.

Amrit looked genuinely stumped, picking his jaw up before Shinza could see. “Oh… wow. You were serious.”

She could hear the disappointment in his voice. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Shinza,” he replied kindly, looking her in the eyes. “We’ll figure this out. Don’t worry.”

He walked a slow circle around her, as if maybe she was holding the answer behind her back. The way his brows knit together caught Shinza off guard; he was so handsome, she suddenly felt like punching him. “Okay. I think I might know what the problem is. Can I try something?”

“Please. By all means.” 

Still standing behind her, Amrit planted one hand on her shoulder and one in the middle of her back, palm pressing into her spine. He stayed there like that for a few moments. “Yeah… yep. Your chi’s blocked. Big time.”

Was it really that simple? How could it have gotten so badly blocked? “Okay, but how are we gonna–!” Shinza gasped as Amrit drove his knuckles into her spine in a rapid one-two-three hit, just hard enough to disrupt the blockage. Instantly, warmth spread throughout Shinza’s body. She felt like a ray of sunshine. “This is amazing,” she murmured. “My hands have always been so cold, and now they’re… they’re so _warm.”_

Her smile was contagious. “I’m glad I could help,” he replied. “Now… let’s see some firebending!”

If this didn’t work, Shinza didn’t know what she’d do. But the thought that it could work - the thought that maybe she actually was a firebender after all - made her heart race. Taking her time and walking through the form again with more precision, she finished the movements and extended her hands. 

From her palms came a pathetic puff of smoke.


	3. Slow Burn [Book 1: Fire]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shinza's first firebending lesson was full of surprises. After an exhausting first two days as the Avatar, she reflects around the fire pit with Amrit.

The stars shone like innumerable diamonds strewn about the velvet sky. As Shinza walked beside Amrit, their path illuminated by torches, crickets sang their nighttime song. They came to a fire pit behind the house, filled with branches and surrounded by stones. Shinza took her place and watched Amrit kindle a fire with one swift thrust of his fist. 

“It was really nice of you to invite me to dinner,” she said. 

Amrit smirked. “I just hope my family didn’t scare you off. My mom, she uh… lets her mouth run sometimes.”

“I see where your sisters get it from,” Shinza retorted. She hadn’t had a good meal like that since the last time she’d gone to Nero’s family’s house for dinner. It hadn’t been until tonight that she realized how much she missed the buzzing of conversation, the overabundance of food and the elder family members insisting she eat more, and Nero’s little brothers arguing one minute and scheming together the next.

“I knew you had good taste in movers,” Amrit chirped as he planted himself on the stone next to hers. “How can anyone not like The Last Dragon?”

“It’s so good!” Shinza agreed.

The two of them talked small for a while, and for the first time since she’d arrived, she felt at ease. Amrit took a long look at her. “Listen… I hope you’re not too frustrated with what happened today. I don’t want you to get discouraged.”

Shinza met his eyes for a moment and then cast her gaze to the flames. Her shoulders stooped as she leaned forward on her elbows. “I just wish I knew what’s wrong with me. Or why my chi was blocked in the first place.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he insisted. “Trust me, I’ve worked with some really terrible firebenders before. Students who showed much less aptitude than you, and they all became proficient in the end. I don’t know why your chi was blocked, but I know exactly why your flame is so weak.”

“Why’s that?”

Amrit leveled with her. “You have no drive.”

Shinza stared at him hard for a moment, struggling to keep herself in check; but the events of the past two days had thrown her for a loop, and she couldn’t hold it in anymore. “No drive? You think I didn’t already know that? Do you have any idea how often I’ve heard that throughout my life? From my parents, from my teachers and professors?”

She stood up and paced in front of the fire. _“No drive…_ unbelievable. _I know I have no drive!_ I’ve been aimless my entire life, Amrit. Some people are born knowing what they want to do with their lives, but I wasn’t so lucky. I wasted four years getting a degree that barely pays the bills and fielding complaints from my parents left and right that I have no passion.”

Amrit listened intently, his onyx eyes following her as she paced in front of him. Behind her, the flames grew taller. “Keep going. What else?”

“You know what else I don’t have, Amrit? _Guidance._ One day I’m a dreamer with my head in the clouds and the next I’m suddenly the Avatar? What exactly am I supposed to do with all of this? I keep asking people what’s going on, and no one will be straight with me. I don’t know the first thing about this job, and now all of a sudden people are bowing to me and telling me I’ll do amazing things? How am I supposed to unpack all of this? I’m eleven years late and a complete failure. I’ve failed before I even started!”

The fire roared behind her. Amrit smirked. “Do it.”

“Do what?!”

“Bend fire. Dancing dragon. Go.”

Amped up, Shinza completed the form from their earlier training session. But this time, as she pushed her palms outward, they emitted a strong, concentrated flame. 

Amrit leapt off his stone. “Good! Do it again.”

For just a second, Shinza was afraid to extinguish the flame in case it didn’t come back. But as she ran through the movements again, executing each step with precision, she produced the same controlled, brilliant flame. 

“You did it,” Amrit grinned, watching Shinza hold the stance and keep the fire she’d produced alive, staring at it with wide eyes. “You’re a firebender.”

She took to performing the movement over and over again until she was satisfied that she could produce consistent results. Reeling with excitement, she couldn’t wipe the grin off her face as she took her place on her stone, pressing her hot palms against her cheeks. Fire… she was a firebender. After a whole life spent as a nonbender, she felt she had so much to catch up on. At the same time, the realization that the Fire Sages hadn’t called on the wrong person after all weighed heavily on her shoulders. The long path before her stretched out to infinity.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that, Sifu,” she said after a moment.

Amrit waved her off. “You needed to get it off your chest. Your chi may have been blocked, but you were also holding yourself back. Fire is pure energy; it’s passion and resilience and the drive to move forward no matter what. You just needed a little persuasion, is all.”

She couldn’t argue with that. Staring at her palms, the two fell silent for a while. Then, Shinza remarked, “You know, the way the warriors described you, I thought you’d be a lot older. But you’re, what, my age?”

“Mmm… maybe a little older.” Then he admitted, “I may have made my own assumptions about you, too.”

Shinza’s left brow arched. “Oh?”

“Well, you only know one firebending form, and you know it really well. So maybe a relative of yours was a firebender, and you used to watch them practice; then you’d do that move over and over again, hoping you’d produce a flame. Your movements are exact and elegant - I think you’re probably a dancer. You’re reserved, straightforward, and you demonstrate the most self-control I’ve ever seen. I would have lashed out at me a long time ago, but it took you until tonight to finally let it all out. …Oh, and you’re maybe a little spoiled.”

Shinza stared at him for a moment and snorted in response.

Amrit’s gaze darted to her hands. “Can I ask about your scars?”

She shrugged. “Sure. It doesn’t bother me.” Holding the backs of her hands up, where the scars were darkest, she continued, “I was too young to remember when it happened, but I was playing - spinning around, you know, like little kids do - and I fell into a lit lantern.”

“Ouch,” remarked Amrit.

“What about you?” Shinza replied, gesturing at his metal prosthesis.

“Oh, you mean The Leg? Isn’t it gorgeous? Fire Nation metalwork at its finest. You can touch it if you want.”

She did; leaning over to brush her fingers along the intricate scrollwork, she nodded appraisingly. “It is. And you really refer to it as _The Leg?”_

“I mean, what else would you call it?”

Shinza sat upright. “What happened?”

All at once, the cheer in Amrit’s eyes drained out and his face darkened. His mouth sealed shut like a vice.

“You don’t have to tell me,” she murmured. 

“It’s okay,” he assured her. “It’s just… I’ve never actually said it out loud. I don’t even know how to say it.”

Shinza waited patiently. 

“I got married when I was twenty-five,” Amrit began, after having taken a deep breath and expelled it. “To the love of my life, Gao. We’d grown up together. Actually, funny story - we hated each other as kids. But then we got older and, you know, things change. We fell in love and had a beautiful wedding. A couple years later, she was carrying my children - twins, a boy and a girl - when an ancient spirit appeared, demanding a sacrifice. It was unusual for this spirit to appear before a thousand years was up, but it did - it was unhappy with the lack of reverence shown to the world. It sensed the smog coming from the refineries and saw the oilbenders working like slaves on the rigs offshore. And it said that if we didn’t offer a tribute - a live, human sacrifice - it would take one for itself. Of course, the whole village couldn’t just choose one of their own to offer up. So the spirit returned. It took Gao. I lost my leg trying to, uh… trying to get her back.”

The two were quiet for a long time, staring into the fire. Finally, Shinza said, “I’m sorry, Amrit.”

“Me too,” he replied, looking pale. Shinza knew there was nothing she could say that would ease the pain that was so apparent on his face.

“For what it’s worth, you were right about me,” she said. “I’ve been incredibly selfish. For the past two days, I’ve been complaining about this sudden revelation - how confusing it is, how no one’s helping me, and how much of an inconvenience it’s been to have my life turned upside down. I’ve always longed for a purpose, and now here it is, right in front of me, and I’ve been so ungrateful to everyone who has helped me so far. Even you. You guided me to my flame, and I’ll never be able to thank you enough for that.”

“I think I was meant to help you,” Amrit replied, looking into her eyes. “I’ve spent the last ten years wondering why it had to be Gao and our babies who were taken. Why it couldn’t have been me instead. But it took me until today, right now, to realize that maybe it all happened so I’d end up right here on this stone next to you.”

Shinza took that in, treasured it. Tucked it safely against her heart. Then she touched Amrit’s shoulder. “I won’t let any of it be in vain,” she promised. “I’m honored to have you as my teacher. And my friend, I hope.”

The glimmer in his eyes returned, and he smiled. “Are you kidding me? I just told you my deepest, darkest secret. We’re _best_ friends now.”

The two fell silent again for a long while. Then Shinza spoke again. “Amrit? What do you know about The Organization?”

“More than I’d care to know,” he said. “They want to end the cycle because they think the Avatar is inherently too powerful, antiquated, and no longer necessary. Basically, they want you dead.”

“Wonderful,” Shinza muttered. “What else?”

“They believe no one person should have as much power as you do - not you personally, but you as an institution - and that you can’t be trusted to wield it responsibly. Historically, there have been some pretty ineffective Avatars, and even some bad ones. After the last handful who all turned out to be incredible, The Org thinks we’re overdue for another one. Oh, and they think too much taxpayer money is spent on keeping you in your Avatar finery.”

Shinza couldn’t help but laugh. “But the Avatar is the one who protects those taxpayers. And besides, I didn’t ask for all the fancy pajamas and portraits and gifts people are sending. I don’t understand these people.”

“I don’t either,” Amrit replied. “But Shinza, it’s more important than ever that you get through you training as quickly as you can. The world needs the Avatar, whether they think they do or not. You need to be able to protect yourself and the cycle.”

She mulled that over for a long time. “There’s just… a huge problem that I can’t see past. Okay, fine, I’m the Avatar. Sure, my job is to bring balance to the world and all of that. My duty is to people, but Amrit… people are _awful._ I don’t understand them, and most of them I don’t even like. Some people purely aren’t worthy of respect. How am I supposed to reconcile all of that?”

“I don’t know the answer to that one,” Amrit said, a little defeated. “Look, don’t think about it too hard tonight, okay? You should probably go on and get some sleep. Now that you’re a firebender, we’ve got a long, brutal day of training tomorrow, starting bright and early.”

Shinza rose and smirked. “Can’t wait.”


	4. Family Reunion [Book 1: Fire]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shinza takes a break from firebending lessons and goes to the mainland to meet her father's family for the first time. What she learns over the course of the evening is shocking.

As he did with all his students, Amrit saw Shinza as a hunk of raw marble, and as he chiseled away, he started to unearth the statue within. Her method of bending was methodical and controlled; she combined strict textbook technique with inventive application, often surprising Amrit. But as beautiful and clean as her lines were, and as sufficient as her self-defense abilities were, she still lacked the core essence of what it meant to be a firebender. After a while, her progress came to a plateau.

He kept her training at a dogged pace, and she was up to the challenge. He had to give her that much: she was persistent. But after seeming to hit a wall, they both needed a break. 

“You’re doing great,” Amrit encouraged, catching his breath at the end of the day’s session. They were both panting and covered with sweat. The smell of charred air surrounded them.

Shinza gulped down a cup of water. “But?”

Amrit sighed, taking his time with his own cup of water before finally getting down to it. “I worry. You’re doing well here, but I’m not confident that your bending won’t weaken once you leave. This heat, and being on the equator… it’s helping you, but it can also be a crutch.”

Gracefully, she bent and settled on the ground. “So how do I get stronger?”

“I think you know the answer to that,” Amrit replied, sitting across from her and looking her in the eye. “It’s been a struggle for you - I know it has. But your progress has plateaued because you still haven’t pinpointed your motivation. You need to be able to overpower your opponent with sheer force. Firebending by nature is an offensive art, and frankly, I don’t think you don’t have the resolve for it.”

He watched her. Being straightforward was something Shinza valued, but delivering such a blow to her ego wasn’t easy. Not with so much at stake, and with all of the pressure falling squarely on her shoulders.

“I know,” she replied quietly. Streaks of black soot marked her face, obscuring her freckles. Several strands of hair had come loose from her topknot and framed her face. She’d given this everything she had. “I’ve been trying. I really have.”

“I know you have,” Amrit assured her. “But I think you need a break. We’ve been training in the temple this whole time, but you’re not getting what you need here. Maybe you should do some wandering.”

“I thought it wasn’t safe for me to travel alone,” Shinza countered, thinking of Mai and Zhang and their incessant need to be glued to her side.

Amrit considered that. “I think it’ll be worth it. Besides, as far as I know, no one knows it’s you who’s the Avatar, and you’re skilled enough now that you could hold your own in a struggle.”

They were quiet for a while. Ever since the incident at the General’s Tea House, no one would let Shinza out of their sight - even Amrit, who was now realizing the value of showing his faith in her. The idea of being treated like the adult she was, to her, seemed wonderful. Then she said, “I think I know where I’m going to go.” 

Shinza boarded a ferry to Fire Fountain City the next morning. She had dressed in mainland Fire Nation clothes, which was something she’d never done before, but for the first time in her life, she looked and felt proud. Maybe she wasn’t up to Amrit’s standards yet, but she’d come so far in the months she’d been on the island. What made a knot in her stomach, though, was the worry that this trip would be a waste. What if she didn’t find what she needed here? What if she disappointed Amrit? Or worse: what if she disappointed herself?

She stepped off the ramp and headed toward the address she’d seen on envelopes her whole life: her aunt and uncle’s apartment. She’d never met them before, but from all the pictures they sent and from the stories her father had read aloud from their letters, she felt like she did. Shinza wasn’t sure how they’d take to a surprise visit, but she’d had no way of letting them know she was coming. As she passed through the town square, she came upon what gave the city its name: the fire fountain. After Fire Lord Ozai’s flame-mouthed statue had been hauled to the ground and removed, the citizens of the town, under Fire Lord Zuko’s orders, had replaced the statue with the fountain. It was meant to symbolize the Fire Nation’s turning away from its past, and it was a beautiful sight when lit at twilight. But now it was broad daylight, and it seemed so much smaller than she pictures she’d seen of it with crowds gathered around it and with its floating lanterns glowing. It was hard not to be disappointed, but she kept going until she reached the address. 

Shinza ascended the stoop and used the iron knocker to rap a couple times on the door, using the interim time to make sure not a hair was out of place. A couple seconds later, the door swung open, and a familiar face greeted her.

“Ohh!” her aunt Chiyo squealed, already holding her arms out. “Is that Little Shinza I see?”

“Hi, Aunt Chiyo,” Shinza responded, smiling through the vague discomfort of being ensnared in a monstrous hug and pulled into the apartment. The woman was much shorter than Shinza, and quite round, with a kind face and twinkling yellow eyes. She reached upward to cup Shinza’s cheeks and beamed into her niece’s face.

“Oh, what a joy!” she exclaimed. “I never thought we’d get the chance to meet you. What brings you to Fire Fountain City? Are your parents here? Oh, come in, come in! Please, make yourself comfortable. Everyone! Guess who’s here?”

Shinza found that the little apartment was full of people, all of whom she recognized, and all who had come to the living room to see her. Her uncle Akio, her cousin Kenzo, his wife Nhu, and their children, Lili and Khazan. All of them fussed over her, commenting on her physical similarity to her father, Chiyo’s brother. 

“You’re just in time for dinner,” Chiyo sounded. “Are you hungry? I made a nice roast duck for the family. Oh, how lucky you came by today, when everyone’s here!”

“Sounds wonderful,” Shinza said; Lili and Khazan, who seemed boundlessly fascinated by their cousin, pulled her into the kitchen and offered her a place to sit. Gradually, she acclimated and started to feel comfortable. “It’s so nice to see all of you. I’ve seen pictures, but it’s not the same.”

“So what brings you to town?” Akio inquired, pulling out a chair for himself. “Taking a little vacation?”

“Something like that,” Shinza replied. “I’ve been working hard, and I needed a little getaway. And I thought, you know, maybe it’d be nice to meet you all.”

“Well, it’s just wonderful to meet you,” Akio beamed. “Tell us, how are your parents? What do you do for work? What’s it like in Republic City?”

Everyone around her leaned in, eager to hear. Shinza couldn’t help but laugh. All the attention was strange, but the magnitude of love she felt in the room was something she’d never forget. “Mom and Dad are fine,” she said. “Mom’s still practicing medicine, and Dad’s been enjoying his retirement as much as he can, for how badly his leg hurts him. I, uh… I’m an artist, technically, but I do some side work as a musician. Sometimes I dance, too, and sometimes I give lessons. Republic City’s nice like that - there’s always a job to take.”

“Oh, that’s just wonderful,” gushed Chiyo. To Shinza’s relief, no one gave her a hard time for not having followed in her parents’ footsteps. Chiyo chirped, “Bird’s on! Everyone come eat. Shinza, honey, you serve yourself first.”

With full plates, they all tucked in. The kitchen was filled with lively chatter, the heavenly scent of a meal made with love, and laughter. Topics of conversation wove and changed; Shinza had managed to tune out, finding the cacophony of everyone talking to each other and over each other simultaneously a little overwhelming; so had Nhu, was sitting beside her. The woman, who appeared to be a little older than Shinza, gave her an amicable smile as they continued their meal.

“So, did you hear?” Kenzo piped up. “The new Avatar’s been located.”

“Oh? No, I hadn’t heard that,” Chiyo replied airily. “Well, I hope The Organization manages to find them and do away with them for good. I shudder to think…”

Nhu groaned. “Kenzo, what have I asked you about politics at the table?”

“Oh, honey, come on. It’s friendly conversation.”

Shinza said nothing, coolly picking out the mushrooms from her bowl and eating them first. 

“It’s not friendly, it’s incendiary,” Nhu muttered. 

Kenzo countered, “I’m tired of this. We all know the Avatar needs to be done away with. We can’t have that kind of abuse of power in our world.”

“Daddy,” Lili interjected, tugging at her father’s sleeve. “Is it true the Avatar murders babies so they can go into the Avatar state?”

Chiyo nearly choked on her roast duck.

Khazan said to his sister, “A boy in my class says his dad is in The Org, and that they’re gonna find the Avatar and murder them in the Avatar state so they’re never reincarnated.”

“Okay,” Akio boomed. “That’s enough. Nhu, sweetheart, you can’t censor people. Kenzo, don’t provoke her. Now – Chiyo, what did you say about those sweet dumplings?”

“They’re in the fridge, dear,” Chiyo responded, happy not to engage in such a grim facet of the conversation.

“What do you think about all that, Shinza?” Kenzo said after a moment, with his father’s back turned to them in the kitchen as he searched for dessert. “What’s your stance on the Avatar?”

Shinza delicately slurped the last of her noodles, pretending to think on it. “Hadn’t really considered it,” she said casually. “There’s no such talk in Republic City. Everyone basically pretends the Avatar doesn’t exist.”

“I’ve heard different,” Chiyo piped up. “Akio’s second cousin lives in Republic City, and he says The Org has growing numbers. They’re coordinating a search effort."

“Well,” Shinza shrugged. “I guess, whoever the Avatar is, they should prepare for the fight of their life.”

“Well said,” bellowed Akio, coming back to the table with a tray of sweet dumplings. Dessert was a much quieter affair. The children went to go play in the living room, Kenzo and Akio went to go smoke on the balcony, and Chiyo, Nhu, and Shinza cleaned the kitchen and enjoyed some quiet conversation. After the last dish was dry, Chiyo looked apologetically at Shinza. “I hope we didn’t scare you off,” she said sheepishly. “Things can get pretty lively here.”

“No bother,” lied Shinza. “It was really an honor to meet you all. I hope this won’t be the only time we get to see each other.”

Through the balcony screen, Shinza garnered little scraps of Akio’s conversation with his son. He admonished Kenzo for allowing his little boy to entertain the idea that the Avatar was a child murderer, and Kenzo argued that he’d heard rumors of it himself. Besides - after Unavaatu, what wasn’t the Avatar capable of?

“I should get going,” Shinza announced. “Aunt Chiyo, thank you so much for dinner. I’ll tell Mom and Dad you said hello.”

“Okay, sweet girl,” once more pulling in Shinza for a captive hug. “Go tell your uncle and cousins bye.”

Shinza had parted with all of her family except Nhu, who offered to walk her to the bus stop. Just being out of the cramped apartment was such a relief that the shrieking locusts of late summer didn’t bother her. Nhu was quiet and tall, like Shinza was, with dark brown hair and striking hazel eyes. Her parents had immigrated to the Fire Nation from the Foggy Swamp when she was tiny, she told Shinza. She didn’t have the luxury of visiting her relatives like Shinza did; when Nhu’s parents left their family’s neck of the swamp, they’d been so deeply disappointed that they decided they wouldn’t be welcomed back.

“That’s awful,” Shinza replied. She couldn’t imagine being cut off from her parents that way.

Nhu shrugged. “What do I care? I have my parents and Kenzo’s family, loud as they can be. And a new cousin I can talk to.”

Shinza gave a genuine smile. The two passed the fire fountain, which was being lit by two keepers, shooting little synchronized spears of fire into the lantern wicks. Emberflies wove their way in and out of the lanterns, scarcely discernible from the light of the lanterns. “I was hoping I’d get to see this before I left,” she murmured.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Nhu replied. “Almost makes you forget about all the ugliness in the world.”

“Almost,” Shinza snorted. They watched the fountain for a while and then made their way to the bus stop. Just as they approached, the Satobus that would take her back to the ferry pulled up, hissing and coughing black smoke into the street. “This is me.”

Nhu took one last look at Shinza, her intense hazel gaze finding Shinza’s warm red-brown eyes and instilling a knowing look. “Be careful,” she whispered. 

Shinza boarded the bus, taking a window seat and staring after Nhu as she hurried back down the street, eyes ever vigilant.


	5. Nightmares and Storms [Book 1: Fire]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reality of Shinza's situation creeps in, fueling her nightmares and driving her to take her firebending mastery test.

Morning. Muted light came through the little window in her room, rousing Shinza from a bleak, colorless, soundless nightmare: in it, she had watched herself as something from inside her oozed out in sticky black tendrils from her eyes, nose, mouth, and ears. Her scarred fingers clawed at the floor in clumsy resistance, but her face remained expressionless. 

Shinza found herself sitting up in bed, having a hard time coming to wakefulness and shrugging off the hideous dread the nightmare had brought. She’d always been good at interpreting her own dreams and even the dreams of others she was close to, but this one was too unsettling to try to unpack; instead, she slipped out of bed, dressed, and went for a walk.

Deep purple clouds roiled angrily and obscured the sun, muting the normally vibrant colors of the shore. The waves, agitated as if in response to the threatening sky, crashed against the beach. The salty wind picked up in speed. Standing on the shore, facing the horizon with his fists balled up, stood Amrit. Shinza traversed across the rust-colored sand toward him, realizing she recognized that posture - the one he took on when deep in thought. As she passed the rocks, several dragon-iguanas locked eyes with her and watched her walk past.

Amrit heard her approach, but he didn’t acknowledge her right away. She came to stand beside him, looking out into the sea, trying to find whatever he was looking at. Finally, he said, “We would have been married twelve years today. My kids would have been turning turning ten soon.”

Suddenly, Shinza understood. Where they were standing was exactly where he’d lost Gao and their unborn children, and where he’d lost his limb trying to get them back. It was hard to think about. She looked down at the tide, rushing over their feet. Grains of red sand caught in the fine scrollwork of The Leg’s metal foot. She could easily imagine Amrit as a loving husband and father, laughing and joking with his wife and trudging across the floor of his home with one child clinging to each leg. The sudden starkness of him by himself in contrast made Shinza’s heart ache for him.

She put her hand on his shoulder, and he gratefully put his hand on top of hers. “I can’t imagine how badly you must be hurting,” she said.

“Have you ever lost anyone like that?”

“No. I’ve been lucky so far. I have no idea what it feels like.”

Amrit took a deep breath and released it. “It’s like a stone,” he said; his voice was tired, like it took everything in him just to speak. For the first time, Shinza noticed the fine lines around his eyes, and the dark stubble coming in on his jaws. “Every day, you have to swallow it. But every day, it’s a different size. Some days it’s just a tiny pebble, and you don’t even notice it going down. Some days it sits heavy in your stomach, but you drink some tea and it helps. And then there are days when it’s a boulder. You can’t even see around it, much less attempt to swallow it.”

Shinza’s heart sank. Seeing her friend in such pain and knowing there was nothing she could do to alleviate it was excruciating. She squeezed his shoulder and said, “Do you want to talk about it? Or would you rather be distracted?”

Amrit thought for a second and then said, “Distract me, please.”

“You wanna hear a joke?”

He looked at her for the first time that morning, brows rising as if daring her to try to make him laugh. “Okay.”

“What’s worse than raining capuchin cats and dogs?”

“What?”

“Hailing taxis.”

Amrit snorted and cracked half a grin. The dimple on the left side of his face appeared. “Where’d you hear that?”

“My little cousin told me.”

“You went to go see your family? How was that?” 

“Confusing,” she replied with a sigh. Then, after a beat, she looked at him and said, “I want to take the mastery test.”

“Whoa. Was it that bad?” he asked with concern. “What happened?”

Shinza pulled her sinking feet out of the sand and motioned for him to follow her down the shore. The gulls overhead called loudly to one another, coordinating to pick the dragon-iguanas off the rocks.

“It was actually really nice,” she said. “Until somebody brought up the the Avatar at dinner. I managed to play it cool, but they’re supporters of The Org. They were also trading some pretty disgusting rumors - like that the Avatar murders children to gain power. I just…”

Shinza paused, thoroughly disgusted as she recalled the conversation. “I can’t fathom how they could really think that’s true. How could you not question that?”

“It’s propaganda,” Amrit replied flatly. “People will believe all kinds of shit if they have a good reason to. No one’s immune to it, even if they think they are.”

“My aunt also said The Org is on a witch hunt,” Shinza continued. “Which I don’t think is a rumor. She said they’re starting in Republic City and just waiting for the name of the Avatar to be announced.”

“Good thing you haven’t been presented yet,” Amrit noted. “Maybe the world leaders will agree it’s best to keep your identity unknown.”

“I don’t think it’s going to matter,” Shinza replied. “My guess is The Org is probably further along with their plans than everyone thinks, or at least that’s the assumption I’m going with. Besides, something else happened - or at least I _think_ it happened. I think my cousin Nhu knows who I am. If she does, I have reason to believe my secret is safe with her.”

“I hope so,” Amrit said. “So you want to take the test so you can move on and keep training.”

“Exactly. And I know you think I’m not ready, but I’m asking you as a friend, and not as your student: please let me do this my way. I need to know you have some faith in me.”

Amrit halted, looking guilt-ridden. The wind kicked at his high black ponytail. “Actually, there’s something I want to say about that.”

Shinza couldn’t help rolling her eyes. Amrit continued, “Please, just hear me out.”

She waited. He laughed nervously and rubbed at the back of his neck. “This is hard. Ah… I was wrong.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve been holding you to a different standard because of who you are, and that’s not fair. I thought that since you have Fire Nation heritage and you’re the Avatar, you’d fit snugly into this ‘classical prodigy’ mold I had in my mind. But your firebending is different and unique and beautiful, mostly because of how much harder you’ve had to work to be able to even produce a flame. I’ve never seen anyone whose chi was blocked so badly and for so long like yours was. When that happens, it usually means a person never really fully opens up their bending abilities. This has never had anything to do with your lack of ambition, and I’m sorry I turned it into that. I’m sorry I haven’t shown my faith in you.”

Shinza wanted to throw her arms around him. Instead, she settled on a righteous smirk. “That really was hard for you, wasn’t it?”

For the first time that morning, Amrit’s smile reached all the way to his onyx eyes. “Yeah. It was. But you’re proud of me.”

“Very proud,” she purred. “And you’re proud of me too.”

“I’m…” Amrit looked away, still smiling. “In awe of you. And yes, extremely proud.”

“So you’ll call a meeting?”

“Yes. But let’s get inside. The Leg’s killing me.”

_________

The test came five days later. Shinza had dressed and received the red ochre markings on her face that indicated she was being tested. Then she was led out into a valley on the edge of the village, where a panel of five elders sat waiting for her. To the left of them burned the Eternal Flame, and above them all loomed the Cave of the Masters, although the Masters themselves did not appear. Surrounding Shinza were other tribe members - some she recognized as Amrit’s family and his former students, all of whom took their cue and initiated a stirring traditional song. Drum beats and chanting filled the humid air in the valley; the warrior closest to the Eternal Flame took some of its glowing energy and passed it to the warrior next to her, and so on until each person bore the flame. Rhythmically, they danced with the fire, creating circles of varying sizes and colors. Shinza, awed and with goosebumps cropping up along her skin, stood in the middle of it all until it came to an end. 

She faced the panel of elders, recognizing Amrit as the one sitting to the right of the chief. They all wore ceremonial clothes, and their ochre markings told their places in the tribe. Shinza had never seen Amrit the way he was now: impartial, regal, statuesque. He and the others took their seats, and the chief spoke.

“Avatar Shinza,” boomed Chief Mongkut. “We gather today to administer your firebending mastery test. Are you ready?”

“Yes, Chief Mongkut,” Shinza answered with a deep bow. From above, the sun’s rays beat down on them all. She felt the heat in her bare shoulders like a particularly energetic jostling from Amrit, grounding her, encouraging her. She could almost hear him whispering in her ear: you’ve got this. When she caught a glimpse of him, though, he was watching her as if she were a stranger.

“Proceed,” commanded the chief.

Shinza ran through every form she’d learned here on the island, stringing them into a tight, improvised dance: rapid, high kicks and flurries of punches; twirling leaps and swift spins on one bent leg. Fire blazed from her hands and feet, carefully controlled and white-hot, in streams and bursts, spheres and circles. She left it to the panel’s imagination to envision these moves being used in combat. Finally, when she was finished, she closed the path of her chi with a circling movement of her arms and bowed again.

Sweat matted her bangs to her forehead and rolled sideways down her face to drip off her nose. Panting, she waited. But no one said anything. Then she took a glance upward and saw that the four who flanked Chief Mongkut had all turned to him. He seemed to be deep in thought, eyeing Shinza as if she were a stone with some unknown ancient language carved onto its surface. 

“Thank you, Avatar,” he said. “That will be all.”

Shinza blinked stupidly, standing up straight and nodding her head in deference. Then she slipped away, looking back one more time at Amrit, who she found this time was looking back at her, wearing an expression she read as a combination of admiration and worry. Once the testing area was out of view, she stopped to catch her breath, wondering if she’d missed something. Amrit had told her what to expect: the opening ceremony, the passing of the Eternal Flame, and the feeling of intimidation performing in front of almost the whole village. But he hadn’t specified when she’d be handed her results. _Maybe they always wait,_ she thought to herself. But the sinking feeling that she hadn’t passed crept along her soot-covered skin. Shoving her damp bangs upward off her face, she exhaled and wandered back through the town square.

“You didn’t fail,” she murmured to herself in an attempt to calm her rising anxiety. “You didn’t fail. You’re a perfectly adequate firebender.” _But adequate isn’t good enough,_ replied her inner voice, which in this scenario sounded like her mother’s voice: calm, loving, and laced with the poison of disappointment. Her mother had never directly said it, but Shinza always got the hint: doing something if you weren’t perfect at it was a waste of time. An icy terror slid down her spine: what if this was as good as she got, ever? What if her training with the other elements went the same way? What good would she be to anyone then? A flash of the nightmare she’d had several nights ago resurfaced: black tendrils, scraping nails, silent mouth. What had that dream meant?

“Stop,” she hissed. Inwardly, she reminded herself that she hadn’t even been able to bend before she’d arrived here. Now, she’d done well enough for the panel of elders to allow her to take the mastery test. She’d done everything she could, and she’d continue to do all she could, because she had no other choice. Shinza closed her eyes and wiped away the image she saw of her mother and father, conjuring up instead the memory of that first day of training, when Amrit had insisted that there was nothing wrong with her. The thought brought her comfort, but it wasn’t enough. 

Opening her eyes, Shinza released the breath she’d been holding. She was proud of herself.


	6. The Dragon [Book 1: Fire]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shinza is made to wait for the results of her firebending mastery test, and anxiety starts to take hold. Protests begin in Republic City as the announcement comes that the new Avatar has been found. Shinza makes a new friend.

What little resolve Shinza had managed to muster after the test had washed away with the rain. The memory of Chief Mongkut leaving her hanging was still fresh, and each time it replayed in her mind, it made her more uneasy. In an attempt to calm herself, she’d brought a pot of jasmine tea to the covered rooftop of the little villa she’d called home for the past ten months. Cradling the hot ceramic cup in her hands, she focused on the sound of fat raindrops on stone, on dirt, on the canvas canopy above her; through the downpour, she saw the village through a gray filter, watching vendors closing up shop, adults running for cover, and children splashing in the puddles along the main path.

She had no idea what to expect when she first came here, and she was a little surprised to find she wasn’t homesick. Not for Republic City itself, anyway: she preferred the quietude of the village and the friendliness of its people, even if she couldn’t escape the smog of the mainland’s industrial endeavors. 

Nero crossed her mind often. Shinza should have written her a letter a long time ago; it would have been the least she could do, after her the shock of seeing her friend essentially dragged away. They’d never even gotten to say goodbye, and the guilt she felt for not having written to Nero was palpable. But a small part of her had been anxious to extricate herself from her life in the city, and from the people she knew, with the hope that whatever came next would lead her to what she’d always felt was missing.

Another memory that stuck to the forefront of her mind was her mother calling to her down the hallway after she’d come to say goodbye: _We love you, Shinza. No matter what._ She knew that, though, and she’d never questioned it. What she’d needed to hear was that they were proud of her. Would they be proud of her now that she was a firebender? Did they respect her now because she was the Avatar?

She didn’t know, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to. 

Taking in the fragrant steam of her tea, she took the first hot sip and rested the cup on the table, turning on the little radio in front of her and tuning in to Republic City’s main station. The signal was choppy at best, but if she pointed the antenna east, she could make out the announcer’s familiar voice: _“…And if you’re tuning in just now, thank you for joining us. Republic City officials today have confirmed the identity of the new Avatar. Supporters, devotees, and fans alike have awaited this announcement for almost three decades; after the tragic, untimely death of the child Avatar Yeong, the world rejoices at this new emergence. Officials are withholding the new Avatar’s identity in the midst of protests by The Organization, taking place in the city this week.”_

A fresh wave of anxiety rolled over her, in time with a heavy sheet of rain that battered the uncovered portion of the rooftop patio. She turned the dial in search of something less troublesome and settled on the crooning of a familiar artist - famous for having gone from working at a dingy lower-ring club in Ba Sing Se to overnight sensation - who sang about the troubles of her neighborhood and her real-life addiction to opium. Shinza listened for a while, and then sang along, harmonizing in her silvery, resonant lilt, until the song came to its doleful conclusion.

“Hey,” said a voice behind her. Shinza leaped out of her seat, finding Amrit standing in the doorway, hands up in submission. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I knocked, but I don’t think you heard me over the rain.”

Shinza waved it off and gestured to the seat across from her. “It’s about time you came around. Want some tea?”

Amrit came to sit and watched as she gracefully poured him a cup. He took it with gratitude and waited for it to cool down, feeling Shinza’s eyes on him, no doubt wondering why he’d chosen this moment to come over. 

Looking deeply proud and gravely serious, he said, “You passed.”

The color drained from Shinza’s face. She set her cup down and scrubbed her hand over her mouth, taking in the news and swallowing her rising emotions. “Okay.”

“The council sent word to the Eastern Air Temple. They’ll be expecting you.”

She nodded slowly, thoughtfully. Then she asked, “Why did it take so long for them to make a decision?”

Amrit took a deep breath and released it. “Chief Mongkut didn’t want to pass you at first. He thought you were too hesitant. But the rest of us vouched for you. You defend yourself well, your technical execution is flawless, and you display an exceptional understanding of the origins of fire. It took him a day or two to think about it, but he came around.”

Shinza quietly took that in and stared down at the table, as if scanning some invisible book.

“Hey. What’s on your mind?” he inquired, leaning forward. He knew her to be reserved, but in a circumstance like this, it worried him to see her simply not react. “You don’t have to keep it all in.”

“Yes, I do,” she blurted, puzzled at why she’d said it. She felt it was true, but she couldn’t put her finger on why. 

She sighed. “Okay, fine. I’m ecstatic that I passed, but I’m disappointed it wasn’t with flying colors. I’m terrified and excited at what comes next. I’m devastated because I’m going to have to leave you, and because if I move on and I learn how to airbend, then there’s no turning back. There will have been no case of mistaken identity, and I’ll have to shrug off this denial I’ve been living in. _And_ I’ll have to face the fact that there are people who want me dead.”

Amrit took that in. He wished he had some sage advice to give, but all he could do was chew the inside of his cheek. “That’s rough, buddy,” he said in defeat.

Shinza scoffed. “Helpful.”

“Can I have this?” Amrit gestured at her hand. 

“Yeah.”

He took her hand in his, studying the taut skin of her elegant fingers and the thick scars over her knuckles. No part of her hands were unmarked. “I think you’re going to be an incredible Avatar,” he said, finally looking up and pinning her with his night-sky gaze. 

“How can you be sure?” 

“Because you care so much.”

Shinza squeezed his hand, feeling flooded with warmth. People in the city didn’t care about each other like this; no one made eye contact or spoke to anyone else unless it was to shout at them to get out of the way. In a place populated by millions of people, she hadn’t realized how alone she’d been. 

“I believe in you,” Amrit murmured, sandwiching her hand between his. “I wish you’d believe in yourself.”

She gave him a little half-smile. “I’m working on it.”

A familiar, comfortable silence fell over them; the rain stopped and the storm clouds rolled by to reveal the sun, which summoned back the fallen rain in the form of an oppressive steam.

“I didn’t know you could sing like that,” Amrit noted, trying his hand at being casual, although he couldn’t stop a coy smile from breaking over his face. He’d never forget the sound of her voice.

Shinza gave her own fond smile. “Yeah. You know, at one point, I wanted to be in a metal band.”

“I can see that.”

“Actually, that’s what I was doing just before all of this happened - performing. My friend and I were playing at this empty tea house. No one was even listening, except for one person, bless him. At the time, I thought that was what my life would amount to, but now I can’t imagine going back to such a simple time.”

Amrit nodded lazily. “No Avatar ever led a simple life.”

_________

The next morning, Shinza made her way up the cliff that overlooked the beach - the place Amrit had asked her to meet him before he saw her off to the Eastern Air Temple. The sun rose in the east, awakening the island with gentle, rosy clouds. With a small pack filled with the few belongings she’d accumulated on the island, she reached the summit, finding him waiting for her.

“Morning, sunshine,” he greeted her, handing her some water. Gratefully, she took the cup and gulped it down. The sun glinted off the clean-shaven sides of his head; the edges where his long, black hair started were sharp and perfectly symmetrical, cut into a cat-eye shape that started at the crown of his head and ended somewhere just above his neck. A gentle wind roused his ponytail. She’d never gotten over the urge to punch him for being so handsome.

“Morning. How do I look?”

Shinza gestured at herself. She wore the traditional airbender clothes the temple had sent over by courier: brown pants, the hems of which were tucked into knee-high, fur-trimmed boots; a turmeric-colored band of fabric wound around her chest, and an orange sash draped diagonally over one shoulder, held in place at the waist by a leather cord. Shinza happened to know that each piece of the outfit derived from animals had been painstakingly and reverently garnered from the bodies of already deceased creatures. Noting the fine stitching when she’d first received the clothes, she’d gushed for half an hour at the craftsmanship. The clothing suited her long, lean form, accentuating her musculature and her gentle curves.

Amrit gave her a once-over, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe she was real. “Incredible. Like an airbender.”

He approached her, furrowing his thick brows as his eyes narrowed at the crown of her head. “Did you grow?”

She grinned. “I think I’m just standing a little straighter these days. I can see the top of your head. Oh! I have something for you.”

Shinza shrugged off her backpack, untying the knot at the top and gingerly removing what looked to be a piece of wood from it. She turned it around and presented it to Amrit: it was a woodburning, displaying him in a full-body pose - the way she remembered seeing him the day of her test in all his regalia - and a three-quarter profile of him at the bottom right, donning his famous dazzling smile. The fine detail was impossibly intricate, and its likeness to him was astonishing. 

“Shinza,” he breathed. “You did this?”

“With firebending. Yes. I wanted to make you something to show my appreciation.”

“This…” he hugged the piece against his chest, careful not to warp the wood. His eyes glimmered with the suggestion of tears. “This is my favorite thing in the whole world. Thank you.”

“Thank _you,_ Amrit,” she replied. “You helped me find my flame, and you stuck with me all the way through. Even on the very first day, when you didn’t even know me yet, you showed me more kindness and patience than I even knew was possible. I’ll always be grateful to you.”

Amrit looked at her, biting the inside of his cheek, and then stared for a few more seconds at the piece before bringing it close to his heart again. “I have something for you too,” he said. “It’s a parting gift, but also kind of an early birthday present.”

Shinza’s brow twitched as she realized how much time had passed, and that she would be twenty-eight in a few months. “Okay.”

He stuck his thumb and forefinger in his mouth, emitting a long, loud, high-pitched whistle into the sky. A few moments passed, and nothing happened. “Come on…”

Just as Shinza started to speak, a dragon came ribboning out from the clouds, small and far away at first, but rapidly gaining immense size as it approached. Speechless, she leapt back as the enormous creature finally came to land on the clifftop. If the sheer size of it was difficult to comprehend, its beauty was impossible. It locked onto Shinza immediately, pacing several feet with its snake-like body. Its talons gouged the rock beneath them with each step. Shinza could see her whole face, awe-stricken, in the reflection of the dragon’s golden eyes.

“Hi, beautiful,” she breathed. Even the small action of the beast’s breathing was startlingly loud. The air around them rippled with heat. It inched closer, slowly enough not to scare Shinza, who, after a moment, realized it was asking to be touched.

She carefully outstretched her hand, planting her palm between the dragon’s eyes. On a whim, she knew, it could exhale a devastating blaze of fire. The creature blinked slowly.

Shinza turned carefully to Amrit. “You got me a dragon?”

“Well, she’s not a pet,” he answered. “More like a friend. I’ve been working with her since she hatched, so she’s tame. She’ll take you wherever you need to go. Just know that dragons move on their own time.”

“What’s her name?” Shinza murmured, entranced by the iridescent scarlet scales that adorned the dragon’s skin.

“I don’t know,” Amrit replied. “She hasn’t told me. Why don’t you try asking her?”

She did. The dragon inched even closer, placing one prehensile whisker in the center of Shinza’s forehead. Immediately, she understood the beast’s name and felt a sense of warmth and love. 

“Xia,” Shinza translated breathlessly. “Her name is Xia. Because she loves the pink clouds of sunrise.”

Xia encircled the two of them and constricted herself so that Amrit and Shinza were forced to stand closer to each other.

“I hope she reminds you of your heritage,” he said. “And the origin of firebending.” _And I hope she reminds you of me,_ he thought.

Shinza slid her arms around him in a fierce embrace, finding herself ensnared in his own strong grip. Each time she squeezed him tighter, he squeezed back all the more fervently. 

“Hey,” she whispered. “Are you crying?”

“Yeah, fuck off,” he sniffed. 

Shinza pulled away just enough to wipe the tears off his cinnamon skin. “I miss you already. Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

“We’ll see each other again,” he promised. Then he released her with reluctance. “Good luck. And be careful.”

Xia nudged Shinza’s shoulder with her snout. She climbed onto Xia’s back, hooking her feet just below the elegant, fleshy spikes that shrouded the dragon’s ears. Her heart raced as she suddenly realized she’d be bulleting through the air, gripping Xia for her life, in a matter of seconds. “Be gentle,” she implored her new friend, who seemed to understand perfectly. The dragon took a couple easy steps back and then started at a smooth, loping gait before hurtling off the cliff, catching the wind and making one generous loop back around for momentum before rocketing off toward the sun.

Shinza closed her eyes until the movement evened out, too stricken by exhilaration to even scream. Then she chanced a careful glance behind her, finding Amrit was bowing to them as they disappeared into the clouds.


	7. The Hall of Statues [Book 2: Air]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shinza arrives at the Eastern Air Temple, where she meets and old friend and her airbending teacher.

Shinza landed at the Eastern Air Temple in the late afternoon, and Xia was eager to take off again. It was evident the dragon didn’t like to stay in one place for too long, but before she left, she communicated to Shinza through the heat that came off her scaled body: _Safe. Arrived. Love._ Exhausted, windswept, and still reeling from the long journey, Shinza placed her hand affectionately on Xia’s forehead, between her eyes. “Yes, thank you. I love you too.” Then, Xia ribboned off, back the way they’d come through the winding mountains like giants’ fingers jutting up from the earth.

The temple itself was breathtaking. Three main areas sat atop three separate mountain peaks, each connected by an elegantly arching sky bridge. The blue-tiled roofs, trimmed in gold, jutted proudly upward toward oblivion; at ground level, the tops of clouds drifted past Shinza’s feet. She craned her neck to take it all in, dizzy from vertigo and the thinness of the air. 

Nearby, a bustling crowd was gathering, and their elated murmurs came: “She’s here!” “Look! The Avatar!” “I’ve never seen a dragon before.” Shinza turned to greet those who had come to receive her, all of whom were women and girls of varying ages. Some wore the traditional robes of the Air Nomads, some the sleek and elegant wingsuits of the new Air Nation. By now, Shinza was getting used to the level of attention she’d been receiving, but the way each person seemed so genuinely pleased to see her was humbling. Having the Avatar in their temple, she realized, was something deeply meaningful. The crowd parted and made way for a wizened old woman - clearly an Elder by the elaborate ochre layers she wore, and by the large, carved wooden necklace that adorned her neck.

“Hello, Avatar,” spoke the Elder. Her dark eyes twinkled as she offered a genial smile to Shinza, who felt a sudden fondness, as if she was reuniting with a long lost friend. She found herself coming forward and wrapping the woman in a familiar embrace. Several members of the congregation gasped, murmuring, _Is she allowed to do that?_

“Hi,” Shinza gushed, pulling away to hold her at arms’ length. It dawned on her suddenly that she didn’t know this woman. Her cheeks reddened. “I’m so sorry. I just feel… I feel like we know each other?”

The woman chuckled at Shinza’s confusion. She soothed, “We knew each other in a previous life. And now I have the distinct pleasure of having known _two_ Avatars.”

Shinza’s eyes brightened. “You knew Avatar Korra?”

“Yes,” the woman replied. “She was a dear friend to me. Now, I’d like you to try something: close your eyes and think. Try to remember my name.”

She obeyed, searching the darkest recesses of her mind, following the warmth of friendship like a tether. Shinza’s brow furrowed in concentration as she caught tiny glimpses of Korra’s life. “Jinora,” she said, the name foreign at first until she said it again. “You’re Master Jinora!”

“That’s right,” she beamed, the laugh-lines around her eyes deepening. “You have an unusually strong connection to your past lives. Which means you’re highly spiritually attuned. I believe you’ll excel at airbending.” 

A grin spread over Shinza’s face. After having had such a terrible time with firebending, she was willing to let herself believe that she might be good at something.

“It’s so good to have you here,” said Jinora. I want you to know that you’re most sincerely welcome and safe in our temple.”

“Thank you, Sifu. When do we start training?”

Jinora chuckled again. “Oh, child, I’m too old for training. Master Lo Sang will teach you airbending - don’t worry, you’re in very good hands. I’ll evaluate you at final testing, and I’ll be nearby as a spiritual mentor and a friend.”

She invited Shinza to take a walk around the temple to get to know her new home and to get some rest before the next day’s first lesson. Then, she summoned the congregation away with her, leaving Shinza in the open courtyard with a view of nothing but an endless, open gray sky. 

Her room had the same enthralling view of the sky as the courtyard. Small and sparsely appointed, it still held a certain charm that Shinza appreciated. She let her little pack fall off her shoulder and onto the bed. Now that she had a moment of stillness and some room to clear her head, she perched on the edge of the thin mattress and let out an exhausted exhale, suddenly overcome with an onslaught of emotions: gratitude for being among the airbenders; longing for Amrit, whose three rapid punches to her spine had unlocked her fire, and whose kindness and relentless encouragement were a balm for her soul; and something else she couldn’t quite name as she realized that she would have to leave behind Republic City and all of its uncertainty and petty worries. But the thought of letting Nero go just didn’t sit right - not when Shinza hadn’t at least let her know she was okay.

Shinza sprang off the bed, intent, once and for all, on writing to her best friend, who hadn’t heard from her since the day she’d been discovered at the General’s Tea House. She pulled out the desk drawer and located an old-style parchment scroll and a writing kit. Her calligraphy was a little rusty, but it didn’t matter; she got to work making the ink and then sat down and unfurled the scroll.

_Nero,_ she wrote. _Hey girl!! Sorry it’s been so long. It turns out I’m a bender after all. Firebending sucks, though. Miss you!_

No. Wrong. Shinza cringed and let the parchment curl up and roll off the desk. On a new one, she started over.

_Dear Nero,_ she wrote. _I’m sorry I haven’t written until now. Being the Avatar is–_

Is what? Shinza couldn’t even begin to pick apart and describe the last year. Unwilling to waste another scroll, she painted a line through the characters and wrote underneath:

_I don’t know who I am right now. I’m not Shinza Kwon anymore. This is the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life, but it’s what I have to do. I love you, friend._

The ink dried. Shinza traced the characters with her fingers. Remorse made her shoulders heavy as she let the scroll curl and tied it closed with a bit of leather cord. She’d send it in the morning.

The inner parts of the temple were like nothing she’d ever seen or could even imagine. The images she’d seen in textbooks did the place no justice. The oldest parts were either original and extremely well-preserved from before the Hundred Year War, or they were faithful and thoughtful replicas. The newer additions, built more recently by the Air Nation, matched seamlessly with the original buildings carved from the mountainside. On the northern side of the main hall, a group of intermediate airbenders ran through a set of forms that produced enough wind to make Shinza brace herself as she walked past. Further up the mountain, connected by a sky bridge, was a stable where the Sky Bison lived. Two or three mothers, astonishing in their size and ability to float in the air despite their apparent mass, fussed over their young, who teethed on a sturdy metal ring bolted to the ground. 

Near the peak of the mountain, Shinza came to a vast hall. Tiptoeing through the massive carved-marble doorway, she was drawn in by an undertow of deep, vibrating energy given off by the multitude of life-size statues within. The statues started in the center of the space and spiraled outward, filling the floor and lining the walls, story after story. She strolled slowly along, taking in the frozen faces of each statue, mouthing the names carved at their feet: Kuruk. Kyoshi. Roku. Aang. Korra. Yeong.

The last statue made Shinza pause. Yeong appeared to be no more than eighteen months old, his pose all chubby limbs and clumsy feet. His bright smile stood out like a beam of sunlight among the stoic faces of the other Avatars. Shinza crouched to study him. She’d known Yeong hadn’t been very old when he’d died, but seeing just how small he was was surreal. 

“Yeong’s mother said she knew he was the Avatar before he was born,” said a voice behind Shinza. She turned to see a young girl, who came to sit cross-legged beside her. “It was a very difficult pregnancy. There’s a rumor that he could earthbend before he even left the womb. If it’s true, he would have been an incredibly powerful Avatar.”

Shinza glanced at the girl, noting the prominent azure arrow tattoos on her forehead and hands. “How did he die?”

“Illness,” she replied matter-of-factly. “He and his mother were in the care of the Earth Kingdom’s top doctors, but they still died.”

“I… that’s… wow.” Shinza grasped for the right words, but couldn’t find them. Instead, she introduced herself. “I’m Shinza, by the way.”

“I know,” the girl chirped blithely. “I’m Lo Sang.”

Simultaneously, Shinza cocked her head in disbelief and grinned with approval. Lo Sang was small and still carried the chubbiness of childhood. If she didn’t know any better than to say so, Shinza might have described her as adorable.

“Are you serious? That’s incredible. How old are you?”

“Ten, if you’re counting from conception, which I am. I’m the youngest airbending master in recorded history.” Lo Sang studied Shinza, her pale gray eyes darting rapidly back and forth. “Why? How old are you?”

Shinza’s cheeks burned. It was bad enough she was so late to the game; now she was being sized up by a child prodigy. “…Twenty-eight.”

“Wow!” Lo Sang larked. “Isn’t it a little late to be just starting your second element? You’re old enough to be my mom.”

“What?! No I’m not!” Shinza spluttered.

“Do the math,” Lo Sang giggled. “You definitely are.”

Without having to count, Shinza knew the little twerp was right. She turned away to look at the statues, feigning annoyance but unable to scrub the amused smirk off her face. Idly, she passed her hand through the space above the empty pedestal next to Yeong’s.

“Your statue will go there someday,” Lo Sang told her. Effortlessly, she summoned a gentle gust of air and lifted herself to her feet. “Our first lesson is at sunrise. You should think about getting some sleep. You know - rest your weary bones.”

_“Goodnight,_ Master Lo Sang,” Shinza intoned. The young one gave her a cheeky smirk before she twirled her fingers, leapt up onto the little spheres of swirling air she’d created, and skated out of the hall.


	8. The Truth [Book 2: Air]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An airbending mishap brings Shinza into the Avatar state for the first time and knocks loose the painful truth about the accident that burned her hands.

Shinza’s airbending training began inauspiciously. For two months, she rose with Lo Sang at sunrise each morning, and they practiced yoga on a mountain peak. Where firebending had taught her decisiveness and power, yoga made her flexible, both mentally and physically. Her afternoons were spent in silent meditation, guided by her young teacher. In the evenings, she tended the greenhouse and the bakery with the others. She ate simple meals - rice, green tea, and fresh vegetables she’d helped grow and harvest herself. Before bed each night, she spent some time alone in her room, reflecting. Meditating more. Clearing her head. _Airbending is an act of freedom,_ Lo Sang taught her. _Freedom from earthly tethers. Freedom from your own mind. Clear your thoughts, cleanse your spirit, and make room for the air to flow through you._

Lo Sang admitted she was surprised by Shinza’s patience and diligence; Even for Lo Sang, being patient through the foundational steps had been challenging, even though she’d had the advantage of not having to fish years’ worth of detritus out of her mind before. But Shinza had longed for a chance for stillness; now that she had it, she wouldn’t waste a second. This, she realized one morning, planting her palms on the earth and balancing her knees on her elbows in crow pose, was the most peaceful she’d ever felt.

Lo Sang took notice. “Wonderful,” she said serenely to her student. Shinza unfolded herself and came to a cross-legged position, mirroring Lo Sang, who studied her with a little smile. “How do you feel?”

Shinza inhaled and gazed out over the rockface, watching Xia’s distant silhouette wave and ribbon through the clouds. “Calm.”

“Good,” said Lo Sang. “Normally, it takes at least a year to ready oneself for airbending - sometimes several years. But Jinora says we don’t have the luxury of time, and I think you’re ready. Do you feel ready?”

Shinza froze in place, remembering her first shot at firebending and how that first day had been a harbinger for the difficulty her training would bring. “I’ll try, if you think I’m ready, Sifu.”

Lo Sang regarded her. “You hesitated. What’s wrong?”

“Eh, it’s kind of a whole story,” Shinza replied, waving her hand through the air between them as if to dispel the issue altogether. “Firebending was really hard for me, and I guess I’m worried airbending will be more of the same.”

“That’s understandable,” Lo Sang replied sagely. “But look how easily the first steps came to you. Just remember to clear your mind of everything but the task at hand, and you’ll do fine.” 

Shinza believed her. Or at least, she wanted to. She recalled what Jinora had said to her when she’d first arrived at the temple: _I believe you’ll excel at airbending._  
“Okay, then. Let’s do it.”

Lo Sang puffed herself to her feet, pausing for a moment. “Actually, can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

“I never thought I’d get to train the Avatar,” Lo Sang confided. “Sometimes I think about how important the job is, and how important it is that I do well, and...”

Shinza stood, dusting off her tunic, and centered herself in front of her teacher, ready for instructions. “If you’re worried, don’t be. You’re an excellent teacher, and I promise to be a good student. Even though I’m old as dirt.”

“Thanks, grandma,” Lo Sang giggled. “Okay. We’re going to start with something very simple first.”

She drew her arms out wide, arced them gracefully, and pulled them inward, swirling them around some invisible sphere. A wind surrounded them, bringing with it a slurry of red and yellow leaves. Lo Sang caught one between her hands with a precise measure of air, keeping it steady and displaying it to Shinza.

“Hold the leaf like this,” she instructed. “Focus like you do during meditation. Breathe like you do during yoga. Summon your energy and bend the air around the leaf to hold it steady. Okay?”

Shinza held her palms open as she was shown. Lo Sang transferred the leaf to her waiting palms. Finding the focus she had honed during meditation, and summoning a current of energy, Shinza kept the leaf hovering between her hands.

“I’m doing it,” she whispered, not daring to break her concentration. “I’m holding the leaf.”

Lo Sang bit her lip to temper her elated grin. “Perfect! I’m impressed.”

Shinza’s eyes glittered. After a beat, she let the leaf go and beamed, “Really?”

“Yes,” Lo Sang replied. “In fact, I think we can try something a little more advanced.”

Shinza watched Lo Sang walk a tight circle on her nimble feet with her arms poised. She funneled a hard, precise puff of air through her hands and directed it at a passing flurry of leaves, sending them scattering. 

“Airbending is about being light on your feet, ready to change your stance at a moment’s notice,” Lo Sang explained. “If another second had passed, I would have had to adjust my stance to target the leaves. Understand?”

Shinza nodded, scrunching her brows together in concentration as she settled herself into a position that looked like Lo Sang’s. The young one came around to correct her stance before stepping back. “Go ahead when you’re ready. Remember to focus.”

Shinza mimicked the movements and paced in a circle, summoning the same energy as before. A wire crossed in her mind, and instead of keeping her arms limber, she locked her elbows like she’d been taught to do in firebending. Air arced like a blowtorch from her palms, the force of which sent Shinza flying backward into the cliffside. The back of her head met the rockface with a sickening crack.

_She’s small and standing in the living room in the old apartment. The unlit lantern hangs from its hook, and Shinza wants to light it. Her mother is studying in the spare bedroom; she knows not to disturb her mother, so she tries to light it herself. With swift movements that nearly match her father’s, she summons a flame. Carefully, she tiptoes close to the lantern, but she isn’t quite tall enough to reach it. So she extinguishes the flame. Steps back. Punches the air. The resulting flame catches on the paper lantern.  
“Oh, no, no, no,” Shinza squeaks, knowing instantly the kind of trouble she’s in. She has to put the fire out before her mother knows. But she can’t reach the lantern, and there’s nothing nearby to step on. A thought occurs to her out of desperation, but she tries it anyway. She concentrates hard and does a little twirl, emitting, to her shock, a gust of air. It knocks the lantern off its hook and onto the floor, and the carpet quickly catches fire.  
_

_ Shinza gets onto her knees, panicking, crying, trying her best to tamp down the fire with her bare hands before it spreads too far. The flames sear her flesh; if she works faster, she thinks, and ignores the pain, she can put it out. But her little palms aren’t big enough. The flames grow until she’s surrounded. Her hands are alight. “MAMA!”  
____

_She wails on her mother’s lap. Her mother holds her tightly so she doesn’t squirm as a doctor summons a wobbling sphere of water over to Shinza and instructs her to place her hands inside. “It hurts,” she sobs, but the doctor urges her to move quickly. Her hands tremble inside the water. The doctor works. He tells them the third-degree burns over her hands and forearms will take months to heal, and that they’ll need to return for regular sessions. Her mother asks about scarring. The doctor says he’ll do his best, but there’s nothing he can do to prevent it.  
____

_She’s at another place - a different doctor, her father tells her. Shinza is weak from crying and from the pain medication. He asks her how the accident happened. “I tried to light the lantern, but it caught fire. I tried to airbend it out, but I made too much wind.”_  
He looks at her strangely. A woman comes in, places Shinza in an uncomfortable chair, and buckles a strap across her forehead. Her cheeks sting. The woman only speaks to her once to say, “Repeat what I say: ‘I am a good, quiet girl. I am not a bender.’” Shinza repeats after the doctor, over and over again. A light revolves around her head.  
___ 

_The woman drives her knuckles into Shinza’s spine._

A white, blinding light emanated from behind Shinza’s eyes and from her open mouth, flickering like a surging bulb. A powerful gale swirled violently around them, kicking up dust and rocks. Lo Sang shielded her eyes with one hand and her body with her own counter-gust as Shinza struggled against the light. Then, exhausted, Shinza finally overcame it; slowly, the fog of the memories lifted, and her vision cleared. She sat slumped like a ragdoll against the rockface, and Lo Sang watched from a safe distance away, eyes wide with concern and terror, hair disheveled.

“Shinza?” she mewed. “Are you okay?”

Dry-mouthed, she brought her hands in front of her and studied them. Traced the familiar purple scars. The implication of what she’d just uncovered wasn’t clear to her yet, but the weight of it was immense. She couldn’t bring herself to look elsewhere.

“You hit your head and went into the Avatar state. Are you okay?” Lo Sang pressed. “What happened?”

“Did anyone tell you why the Avatar you’d be training was twenty-eight and not sixteen?” Shinza asked. Her dizziness was dissipating, giving way to a cold, black bitterness.

“No… no, they didn’t.”

“Because they didn’t know why,” Shinza replied. Her voice was hollow. “My parents knew I was the Avatar, and they had my bending and my memories blocked. The Fire Sages searched for me for years; they just thought I was hard to locate, but I was right under their noses the whole time.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Lo Sang murmured sadly, helplessly. She regarded Shinza like a startled horse who might rear up again at any moment.

“I’m twelve years late,” Shinza continued vehemently. “When I think of all that’s happened in the world in that time, all the trouble…”

She thought of Amrit standing on the shore, telling her about swallowing stones of grief. She thought of the propaganda flyers that littered the streets of Republic City. She thought of her little cousins, her teacher’s age, repeating horrific rumors spread by The Org. “I could have done so much.”

“Maybe your parents had a purpose,” Lo Sang reasoned. “Maybe they wanted to protect you from The Organization.”

“The Avatar belongs to the world, not to their parents,” Shinza argued. “As soon as they knew, they had a responsibility to send me off.” Wearily, she hoisted herself into a standing position. What little color there was drained from her freckled face, and she leaned with one hand against the rock to steady herself. “I’ve lost a lot of time. Let’s keep going.”

“That’s not a good idea,” Lo Sang protested. “Look at you. You’re weak and angry. Which is understandable. I think you should take some time off and work through this, Shinza. If you try to force it, you’ll undo all your progress and waste even more time.”

Shinza gazed down at her sifu, whose pale gray eyes flashed back and forth as they scanned her student’s face. She didn’t have the strength to put up a fight. “Fine.”

Lo Sang slipped her arm around Shinza’s waist to help keep her steady as they made their way along the side of the mountain. There was a silence between them as Shinza ruminated on the young one’s disheveled hair and the fear in her eyes. The thought that Shinza had so little control over the Avatar state that she’d put them both in danger made her nauseous.

“Hey,” Lo Sang sounded, as if reading her mind. “It’s okay. I’m not hurt. You’re not hurt, are you? You hit your head really hard.”

“I don’t think so,” she replied dryly. Her room seemed like it was miles away, but she trudged onward. 

“Can I ask you a question?”

“What?”

“What does the Avatar State feel like?”

Shinza snorted. “Well, I’ve never been electrocuted, but I imagine that’s what it feels like.”

Lo Sang took in that information quietly and squeezed Shinza’s waist affectionately. When they arrived at Shinza’s door, Lo Sang paused.

“I’m sorry you learned something really hurtful today,” she said sincerely. “But I’m glad it’s over now, and I hope you can move past it. I want to help you, if you need help.”

Shinza found herself sinking to her knees and wrapping her arms around Lo Sang, who, she realized, was the little sister she never knew she needed. “Thank you, Sifu. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Alone, Shinza fell into bed fully clothed, dust falling onto her sheets, and stared at the stone ceiling. Processing. Her parents’ faces had already started to fade from her mind before she’d left the Island of the Sun Warriors. But now, when she tried to picture them, all she saw was the sepia-tone family picture that sat in a frame on the mantle of the old apartment. Right next to the lantern.


	9. The Spirit Room [Book 2: Air]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shinza struggles to work past her resentment toward having her status hidden from her. She communes with Avatar Korra, who deals yet another devastating blow, and travels to the Earth Kingdom in search of closure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: Death of a child.

“I’m concerned about you.” Jinora lifted her tea cup to her lips and sipped at her tea pragmatically. 

Shinza pushed her rice around with her chopsticks. “Why?”

The Elder eyed the Avatar through the steam that came from her tea. “Lo Sang tells me you progressed quickly in the beginning. You even showed a strong aptitude for the foundations, until your accident. Ever since then, you haven’t progressed at all.”

Shinza said nothing. Jinora was spot-on. Since the day she’d learned that her parents had hid her status from her, she hadn’t been able to produce a single gust of wind. She was having trouble meditating, too. Behind her eyelids, thoughts came to the surface that she couldn’t make disappear: visions of the light circling her head, of Amrit’s look of disappointment when she couldn’t produce a flame. 

“I don’t know what to do with myself,” Shinza replied after a beat. “I don’t know what to do with this anger.”

Jinora set her tea cup down and gazed sympathetically at Shinza. “You’re being overly hard on yourself,” she soothed. “While it’s true you don’t have all the time in the world, you’re forcing yourself through something that will clearly take more time than you think.”

Shinza’s eyes flashed upward at Jinora for a second. The kindness she saw in her dark brown eyes was too much, and she looked dejectedly back down into her bowl. 

“Will you take a walk with me?” Jinora requested. 

Shinza felt like walking back to her room and crawling into her bed, despite the fact that the sun wouldn’t set for another hour or so. “Okay.”

Crickets chirped their evening melody as the two of them strolled in silence. Jinora held onto Shinza, who walked slowly so that Jinora could keep her pace, despite the pain in her joints. Eventually, they came to Jinora’s favorite place in the temple. The meditation circle was a patch of packed dirt in a grassy clearing, twenty yards in diameter. Around the perimeter, enormous stone monoliths jutted from the earth, towering over the two women. On each stone, the ancient air nomads had carved the symbol of their element. Stepping over the threshold, Shinza immediately felt the potent spiritual energy that permeated the space. The little hairs on her arms stood on end.

“Have a seat,” Jinora instructed gently. Painstakingly, she settled down on a patch of moss growing in a crescent-shape around the center of the circle. Shinza settled across from her mentor.

Jinora studied her for a moment. Then she said, “You feel overcome by your emotions.”

“I guess I do,” Shinza sighed.

_“The true mind can weather all lies and illusions without being lost. The true heart can tough the poison of hatred without being harmed,”_ Jinora recited. “Avatar Aang, my grandfather, received this advice when struggling to decide how to proceed on his journey. He passed it down to my father, who passed it on to me.”

Shinza scoffed. “So you’re telling me I need to get over it?”

“Not at all,” Jinora replied patiently. “By all means, you should take the time you need to process this new information and the way it makes you feel. What I’m saying is that it’s important to remember that your emotions are pieces of information, just like truths. Just like lies. Study the emotions you feel as if they are not your own, as if they are bottled in little glass jars. Accept them. Catalog them. And then let them go. A fully realized Avatar understands that emotions should inform, but they should never dictate.”

“What you’re saying makes sense,” Shinza replied as calmly as she could, scarcely veiling the frustration in her voice. “I just can’t see past this resentment. This disgust.”

Jinora snorted amicably, surprising Shinza. “You remind me of Korra,” she said. “Perhaps you should speak to her.”

Shinza’s brows furrowed. “How do I do that?”

“Through meditation,” Jinora instructed. “Do you remember the way you reached inward and found my name within you when you first arrived? You can reach Korra the same way.”

Jinora was already hoisting herself up onto her feet, waving away Shinza’s protests. “I’ll give you your privacy,” she said. “I’ll make my own way back.” As she passed by, she put a friendly hand on her shoulder. “I wish you luck, child.”

Shinza sighed heavily, begrudgingly crossing her legs and seeing out of the corner of her eye that Jinora had left a stick of incense and a holder behind. She leaned over and pinched the end of the incense to light it. Fragrant smoke wafted around her. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

_Korra,_ she thought. She reached out into the empty space inside her mind. _I need to speak to you._

“Dude, lower the volume.”

Shinza startled, opening her eyes and finding herself in a room whose layout was suspiciously similar to the meditation circle. She sat on a comfy cushion facing the middle of the room, smelling the incense that burned beside her on the physical plane. Across from her sat Avatar Korra, and in her arms wriggled a small boy, no older than a year and a half. 

“I… what?”

“You’re so loud,” Korra replied. “I can hear you just fine.”

Shinza’s vision slowly adjusted to the dim light, and she settled in the comfortable atmosphere. “Sorry. I didn’t know it’d be so easy to find you.”

Korra snorted. “No trouble. I had the opposite problem when I was the Avatar. Couldn’t meditate to save my life.”

Shinza studied the young woman across from her; sinewy, athletic build, casual Southern Water Tribe clothing, vivid blue eyes. She smirked. “So you’re her. My past life.”

“Well, no,” Korra replied, sticking her hands under the small boy’s armpits to lift him up and set him on her lap. “This guy is. Avatar Yeong.”

At the mention of his name, Yeong looked up at Korra and followed her gaze over to Shinza. Immediately intrigued, he wriggled away from Korra’s grasp and toddled toward her. Shinza held her arms out to him, feeling a complex knot grow in the pit of her stomach. “Hi there,” Shinza whispered. He stared at her, dark eyes glimmering with wonder as he reached out and palmed her dark braid. 

“Ah?” he said. 

Shinza nodded seriously. “Yes. Hi.”

“Ah.”

Looking at his small hands and the fine, downy tufts of black hair on his little head, Shinza couldn’t bring herself to imagine that he had died so young. He plopped his little bottom into her lap and contented himself with tangling his fingers in the end of her braid.

“It’s tragic, isn’t it?” Korra said soberly. 

Shinza replied, “I don’t want to think about it.”

“Had he had a chance to live, he would have been insanely powerful,” Korra said. “His mother had a very hard time with the pregnancy. She was all alone, you know - his dad wasn’t in her life anymore, and she had no money. No family to help her. Once he was born, she started noticing that Yeong wouldn’t look away from the fireplace. He’d stare and stare. And then the bricks around the hearth start to crack. Soon after that, she noticed she was being followed.”

“Lo Sang told me he died of an illness,” Shinza replied. “What was it?” 

“It was no illness. It was a biological weapon meant to assassinate the Avatar and his mother.”

Shinza’s heart dropped into her guts. “The Organization?” she whispered.

“You bet your fuckin’ ass it was The Org,” Korra spat. “Check the newspaper articles from the time. They tried to make it out like it was a contagious virus, but there was no outbreak of any kind in Ba Sing Se at the time.”

Yeong had stuck Shinza’s hair in his mouth. She looked down at him, into his eyes, and felt the same connection to him that she’d felt to Aang’s statue in Yue Bay, and the same connection she felt to Korra sitting across from her. She felt her arms circling around Yeong protectively. In Korra’s face, she found a reflection of her own abject disgust.

“I don’t understand how anyone could murder a child.” Shinza struggled to keep her voice even. “In Fire Fountain City, The Org has been spreading rumors that the Avatar eats children to maintain their power. But it’s _them. They’re_ the murderers. I just can’t believe they’d be willing to go that far to end the Avatar cycle.”

“There has always been someone out to get us,” Korra replied. “In Aang’s time, it was Firelord Ozai. In my time, it was Zaheer. And now you have to deal with The Org.”

“Every time I make a little progress,” Shinza started, “Every time I think I start to understand my place in all this, I learn something that sets everything back. Sometimes I think maybe the world doesn’t deserve an Avatar. Not if they kill children.”

Korra looked on. “Maybe some people don’t,” she replied. “I know I encountered my fair share of people who didn’t deserve a damn thing. But most people do. Yeong deserved to stay alive, and so did his mother. You _have_ to find a way to stop them, Shinza. No matter what it takes. If you let them kill you - if you let them kill the Avatar state - their deaths will have been in vain, and there will be no fixing the chaos that will ensue. Those few undeserving will destroy everything.”

Yeong squirmed and grunted as he removed himself from Shinza’s lap, content to trot around in the room they occupied. Korra pinned Shinza with an intense gaze. “Promise me you won’t let them win.”

“I promise,” Shinza hissed with resolution. “I swear on my life. On all our lives.”

Korra launched herself forward and surprised-embraced Shinza in a long, tight hug. “I’m sorry it has to be like this, but I’m so glad to finally meet you,” she gushed.

“You too,” Shinza replied. “You’re the first past life I’ve ever spoken to like this.”

“Yeah, well,” Korra snorted. “Sorry about that. It’s kind of my fault you can’t talk to the others. But I’m always around if you need me. All you have to do is reach out. Quietly.”

Shinza settled back on her pillow. 

“One more thing before you go,” Korra said. “Jinora and I have this Pai Sho game going in the Spirit World. It’s been running for decades. Will you tell her it’s her move?”

Shinza promised she would. Then she brought herself slowly back to her body.

The next morning at sunrise, Shinza came to the mountaintop wearing the Fire Nation clothes she brought with her to the temple, with her small pack slung over her shoulder. Lo Sang took one look and knew what was happening. “I think you should stay here,” the young one advised from her cross-legged position.

“I know you do,” Shinza replied, “And I respect your position, Sifu. But I need to find my own way to get past this.”

Lo Sang scanned her pupil’s face. “Did speaking to Korra not help you?”

“I found a letter on my bed last night after I spoke to her,” Shinza replied. “It was from the contract Dai Li agent that suppressed my memories and my bending. She regrets her actions and wants a chance to apologize in person.”

“I see,” Lo Sang sounded. She unfolded herself and stood, looking way up at Shinza. Her teacher-mask dissipated, and concern made her pale eyes glimmer. “I can see how this might help you work past it. I just want you to be careful.”

“I will,” Shinza promised. “I’ll come back as soon as I’m finished.” Then she whistled for Xia, mounted, and rode west.

Gaoling, in the southeastern region of the Earth Kingdom, was a small but thriving town. As Xia brought her to the outskirts, Shinza slid off her back as a misty rain began to fall. “Thank you,” she said to the dragon, pressing her palm affectionately against her scarlet scales. Xia’s whisker brushed Shinza’s cheek. _Be careful._

She made her way into town at a brisk pace to outrun the rain, which started pouring down in sheets just as she ducked under the awning of a nearby stretch of shops. Pulling the letter out of her pack, she reread the address, comparing it to the street signs she passed. By the look of it, she was headed toward an inn. What business did this woman have in this town? She wondered. Why weren’t they meeting someplace like a restaurant? Once she found the building, she paused, breathing deeply and preparing herself. For what, she wasn’t sure. The innkeeper scarcely noticed her as she strode past the front desk and down a long hallway, stopping at door three. 

She knocked. No one answered. 

She knocked again, and when there was still no answer, she tried the doorknob, finding the room unlocked.

“Yanyu?” she called, stepping carefully inside. Something was wrong. The room looked to be empty. Then the door closed behind her with a creak.

“Shinza,” purred a woman’s low voice from the shadows. “You are a good, quiet girl. You are not a bender.”

Her vision faded. Her pupils widened, drowning out the red-brown of her irises. “I am a good, quiet girl,” she repeated, falling to her knees. She felt earthen cuffs gripping her wrists, felt herself being dragged along the wooden floorboards. “I am not a bender.”


	10. Bending Embers [Book 2: Air]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shinza finds herself ensnared in a trap and comes face-to-face with the enemy. She must summon the courage to break free from the past and from the present moment, or risk being the last Avatar.

“Idiot,” Yanyu scoffed. She was a mean-faced woman of indeterminate old age; though she wore civilian clothing, her long, gray queue and sharp, precise movements gave her away as having had Dai Li training. She cast a disgusted sneer at the Avatar, who was held fast to a chair with hand-shaped cuffs made of unforgiving stone, entranced. “I can’t believe she fell for it.”

“I can’t either,” the Org lackey grunted. He sat beside the chair on the floor, taking a rest with his arms curled around his bent knees. He’d lit the fireplace to stave off the chilly late-autumn draft that had swept into the room. “Name’s Nobu, by the way.”

“Can’t say I really give a damn what your name is,” Yanyu replied airily. Then, with more force: “You know what I’m here for.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Nobu rolled his eyes. “Hang on a sec.” He yanked his radio out of its holster on his belt and held it up to his mouth. “Agent Tanaka to Command. Avatar has been captured and is ready for transfer, over.”

The response was immediate. _“Very good. See that she is brought to me in one piece. Over.”_

“Wilco. Over and out,” Nobu said into his radio. Hauling himself up into a standing position, he twisted a couple times to the left and right, cracking his spine. “Man… I’m getting too old for this.”

“Oh, please,” Yanyu spat. “Don’t talk to me about being old. I want my money.”

Nobu stood firm. “You know the deal. We get her transferred, and then you get your cut.”

Yanyu rolled her eyes. “Fine.” Then she looked again at the pacified Avatar, eyes open but unseeing, face still. She produced from the inside of her robe pocket a little vial of thick, black liquid. “Let me give her more of this before we take her.”

“What is that?” Nobu inquired, squinting at the substance.

Yanyu uncapped the vial and, with a hard curling of her fingers, removed the sludge and let it hover in the air for a few seconds. “Insurance,” she smirked. “Gave her some of this when she was a kid just in case. This’ll help her stay nice and quiet on the trip.”

With a slow, tight twist of her hand, she propelled the wobbling blob toward Shinza.

“Open,” Yanyu instructed.

She obeyed. The sludge brushed her bottom lip.

_Hey. Hey! Wake up!_ shouted a familiar voice in Shinza’s mind.

Her hand twitched. 

“Hurry!” hissed Nobu. “She’s coming out of it.”

_Shinza! Wake the fuck up, you’re in trouble!_

“No she’s not,” Yanyu replied arrogantly. “Shinza… you are a good, quiet girl.”

Korra’s palm was hot and hard as it struck Shinza’s face. “Wake! Up!” 

Shinza bolted upright, dazed, as she found herself in the spirit room with Korra. “What…?”

“You have to wake up,” Korra urged. “It was a trap. The Org and some bitch named Yanyu are kidnapping you. Get up.”

Slowly, stupidly, Shinza looked at her hands, her arms. Realization dawned on her. As if piped in through an old-time intercom system, a voice came to her: _“You are a good, quiet girl…”_  
She was awake now.

“I can help you, but you have to fight. Ready?” Korra urged.

On the physical plane, Shinza’s eyes shot open, glowing white with the force of Korra’s guidance. A howling wind kicked up around her, throwing furniture around the room as if it was all made of paper. The earthen cuffs crumbled away and she stood up from the chair. 

_“I am no such thing,”_ Shinza bellowed; the wind was deafening, but her voice rang out above it, bolstered by Korra’s voice layered behind it. With a sharp jab, she shot a blast of fire at Yanyu’s head.

Yanyu swiftly ducked and rolled, grounding herself in a solid horse stance and sending her foot downward, hard. The cement slab beneath their feet broke into shards like brittle candy, shredding the carpet above it; Yanyu directed the shards inward, aiming to capture Shinza’s legs. Narrowly, Shinza leapt upward on a current of air, the cement scraping at the leather of her boots. Behind her, Nobu snuck up and wrapped his arm around her neck, cutting off her airflow with the crook of his elbow. Flailing, Shinza kicked both legs out high, striking Yanyu in the jaw in an attempt to wriggle free. Nobu flexed his bicep. Shinza saw stars. He snared her wrists behind her back and wrestled her to the ground, stomach to the earth with his knee hard on her back.

“Stop fighting!” Yanyu commanded over the cutting wind. Gesturing with her hands, she summoned the crumbled earthen cuffs; they reformed and flew toward Shinza, stony fingers curling--

Shinza uttered a deafening howl. The gale picked up with sudden, ferocious force and sent Yanyu and Nobu both across the room in different directions, their bodies thudding against the walls. Nobu, fazed and angry, bolted upright and lunged for her. In a split second, Shinza’s eyes went to the fireplace. Her hand shot out, summoning the smoldering embers forward. Then she thrust her fist at Nobu, sending them into his eyes.

Nobu screamed, clutching at his face and falling to his knees. The smell of charred flesh permeated the room.

Behind her, Yanyu drove her bony knuckles into Shinza’s spine. Once, twice, but before she could land the third blow, Shinza whirled around, catching Yanyu’s arm in her grasp and twisting until she heard a loud pop. Yanyu yowled defiantly, her hard green stare daring her to continue. Shinza yanked her other arm forward, gripping it hard and twisting at the shoulder so Yanyu couldn’t move.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Yanyu growled.

Shinza snapped her arm with a nauseating crack. _“You will never block anyone’s bending again.”_

In the recesses of her mind, Korra whooped and hollered triumphantly, and then slipped away. The white glow receded from Shinza’s eyes, and the gale subsided. The room was in shambles. Yanyu lie passed out on the floor, and Nobu crouched near the crooked bed, wailing, blinded, burned.

“Why? Why would you do this?!” Nobu cried. 

Shinza sank to her knees near him. “Would you really have let me go if I’d asked politely? I don’t think so. I don’t believe you would have reasoned with me.”

“The Avatar is not reasonable,” Nobu argued miserably. “You’ve proven that today.”

“I’m sorry you see it that way.”

“I don’t see _anything_ now because of you!” he spat viciously, lunging forward and toppling, unwilling to remove his hands from his blistered face. He sobbed. “I never wanted this to happen. I was supposed to turn you in, collect my bonus, and retire.”

Shinza studied him. Greying at the temples; muscled, but he probably had to work harder to stay fit than he used to. Maybe he had a wife and grown kids. This was just a job to him - one with a good pension, by the sound of it. Nothing personal.

“What do you really think of them?” Shinza inquired. “Of the Avatar?”

“I don’t know,” Nobu sniffed. “I don’t care anymore. Leave me alone.”

Shinza’s gaze narrowed on him. Was he really letting her go? “Okay then. I’m walking away.”

“Go. Get a head start before I change my mind. Just know the big man won’t be pleased when you don’t arrive. He’ll send out another crew, a better one, and they won’t treat you well.”

“That’s fair,” she said. Then she turned for the door, stepping carefully over Yanyu’s prone body and opening the door. With one foot over the threshold, she turned back. “By the way, the healers in Republic City are top notch. They’ll fix you up.”

Nobu scoffed. Shinza stepped into the chilly air, sticking her thumb and index finger into her mouth to whistle for Xia. But before she could make a sound, the ground rumbled beneath her feet. Shinza turned back to see the pointy end of a shard of concrete leveled at her face. Yanyu directed it with her feet and sent it forward. Shinza ducked, but the corner of the block caught her shoulder, ripping her clothes and the skin beneath it. An ugly black bruise began to form immediately. Shinza growled furiously, cocking her fist--

A plume of sweltering flame blasted through the doorway, missing Shinza but engulfing Yanyu, as Xia drove relentlessly forward into the building, arching upward in a loop like a roller coaster once she’d cleared it and doubling back to reign more fire. 

“Shit,” Shinza murmured. The inn began to burn around her. “Oh, fuck.” 

Xia made another loop and slowed down just enough for Shinza to throw herself onto her back. Before she knew it, they were speeding into the air as the inn was consumed by flames. In the distance, she heard police sirens.

Reeling, Shinza clung tightly to the dragon. She’d managed, just barely, to wriggle out of her own kidnapping, but she’d had to physically maim two people to do it. Her dragon had just committed murder by arson. The Organization, she knew, would be out for blood. She could already see the propaganda flyers littering the streets of towns across the globe: _Avatar brutally murders her opposers._

The visceral feel of Yanyu’s limbs snapping in her hands pulsed in her head like a sick heartbeat. The stench of Nobu’s charred flesh was embedded in her clothes - a smell she’d never be able to wash out. 

Clinging tightly to Xia’s back, she planted her palm firmly onto the slick, scarlet scales, closing her eyes and communicating with gratitude: _I couldn’t have gotten out of that without you._  
_______

They touched down in a town a comfortable distance away from Gaoling. Shinza parted with Xia, wearily found another inn, checked in, and immediately collapsed on the bed. Though she slept hard, she dreamed a familiar dream: black sludge oozed out in sticky tendrils from her eyes, nose, mouth, and ears. But this time, she let it flow, watching it collect itself into a neat blob and flow back into its little glass bottle.

In the morning, she felt as if she’d been hit by a Satobus. Bleary-eyed and sore, she made her way to the bathroom, noting the ugly blue bruise and the throbbing, bloody scrape on her shoulder. Her reflection stared back at her, hollow-eyed, pallid. Her freckled face was framed by a tangle of dark hair. There were no mirrors in the Eastern Air Temple; with the exception of the pond in the early, tranquil morning, she hadn’t seen herself in months. Shinza scarcely recognized the woman she saw. In her own mahogany eyes, she saw exhaustion, anger, sadness, and what Shinza could only describe as freedom. Though she smoke and char from the inn in Gaoling still clung to her skin, and though she could still hear Yanyu’s yowling and the snapping of her bones, she felt as if a great weight had been lifted from her. Carefully, she cleaned the wound on her shoulder and bathed. She’d lost her bag, she realized with a sigh, and reluctantly slipped back into the soiled and torn clothes she’d arrived in. 

Then, with a growling stomach, she went out in search of food. A block down from the inn was a noodle house; Shinza stopped in and slipped into a booth. A waiter came by to attend to her - a young man with a tapestry of tattoos covering both arms.

“Morning,” he greeted, clearly pretending not to notice the state of her clothes. She had a feeling he wasn’t one to judge. “What can I get you?”

“House special, please,” she replied. The young man bowed and returned momentarily with a steaming bowl of fresh noodles drowning in fragrant broth. Her stomach rumbled again as she unsheathed her chopsticks.

“Anything else I can get for you?” he inquired.

“Actually,” Shinza paused, studying his tattoos as surreptitiously as she could. “Will you tell me where you got your ink?”

“Pretty sick, huh?” He took a moment to admire the intricate, colorful designs on his skin. “Old man Guo hooked me up. He does it old-style with a poker, not metalbending. He’s over on Shi Street and Main.”

“Thanks,” Shinza replied, and tucked into her noodles.

_______

Shi and Main was a short walk. Guo’s place would have been all but invisible to those not looking for it, save for the wooden sign that had fallen off its little hooks on the awning and sat leaning against the outside of the storefront. Shinza entered and found a man - old, indeed - perched on a stool behind the counter, apparently asleep.

“Excuse me,” she said. “Are you Guo?”

As if he’d been awake the whole time, he smiled brightly, toothlessly. “Oh, yes, that’s me. How may I help you?”

Shinza peered at all the artwork that lined the walls, some of it on old-style parchment scrolls, some on paper. Not a measure of wall was without a drawing or a painting. Spirits, beasts, curvaceous women, and poems in elegant calligraphy abounded.

“I’d like a tattoo,” she said. “A big one.”

With the enthusiasm of a child, Guo stepped off his stool and hobbled around the front counter. “What strikes your fancy?” he inquired in his thin, airy voice. His cloudy eyes traveled over the torn fabric of her shoulder.

“Don’t ask,” Shinza said flatly. Guo met her gaze and winked. Then she rolled up the sleeve on her opposite arm. “Are you familiar with the red dragons of the Island of the Sun Warriors?”

The process took nearly eleven hours, but meditating with Lo Sang for months on end had prepared her both for the wait and for the pain. The pain was intense and prolonged and entrancing; once Guo had sunk the inked needle into her skin for the last time, he carefully and reverently cleaned her skin and gestured for her to take a look in the full-length mirror nearby.

The tattoo consisted of strict, uniform linework and painstaking, meticulous shadow stippling in pure black ink. It started at her clavicle, where the likeness of Xia’s head breathed fire toward Shinza’s heart; the dragon’s body extended down the entire length and surface of her arm, ending with the detail of Xia’s tail wrapping delicately around her fingers, over her scars.

“It suits you,” Guo said, admiring his work. “Your spirit companion will be quite proud.”

“How do you know I know this dragon?” Shinza inquired casually. 

Guo peered up at her and offered another toothless smile. “We have long awaited your return, Avatar,” he whispered. “Go in peace.”

Guo refused to accept the last of her money, claiming no payment was greater than to be allowed to tattoo her. Shinza cast him one last inquisitive look before closing the door behind her and whistling for her dragon.


	11. The Link [Book 2: Air]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After realizing she can't get by on her own, Shinza enlists the help of Jinora and Korra, and the three trek into the spirit world to restore the link to the past Avatars.

Jinora and Lo Sang sat at their usual places at the breakfast table, the former gracefully nibbling at her porridge, and the latter springing upward on her air-skates and launching herself toward Shinza, who had appeared in the archway.

“We were worried about you! I’m so glad you’re back,” Lo Sang chirped, capturing Shinza in a tight hug. When she didn’t feel Shinza squeeze back as tight as she might have expected, she looked up into her student’s face. A storm brewed behind her eyes, and her mouth was set in a grim line. The young one reigned in her boisterous energy, releasing Shinza from her embrace and then catching sight of the fresh ink beneath her skin. “Oh, this is neat.”

Shinza felt a pang as Lo Sang let go of her, wishing that she hadn’t, but not quite feeling like she deserved such affection. How would they feel when she told them what had happened in Gaoling? Would they judge her harshly for her actions? She knelt and settled in her place at the table, graciously accepting a bowl of porridge as it came around to her. She portioned out enough for herself and then passed it onward, lifting the bowl to her lips and letting the steam meet her face.

“Welcome back, honey,” Jinora said warmly. “How was your trip?”

Shinza closed her eyes. She couldn’t bring herself to take a bite of her breakfast, or even sit up straight.

“It… um,” Shinza started. She set her bowl down and sighed, shaking her head slowly. “I don’t know. I haven’t processed it yet.”

Lo Sang scooted closer toward her. “Did you meet the person from your letter? Did you get the closure you needed?”

Shinza turned to Lo Sang. “No,” she said quietly. “The meeting turned out to be a trap, and I barely got out. I’m so stupid… I never should have gone. I should have known better.”

“No, you’re not,” Lo Sang soothed. Concern made her white brows furrow. “What happened?”

“I got to the location where I was supposed to meet Yanyu, the woman from the letter. I was expecting that we’d talk face to face, and she’d apologize and make peace with what she’d done to me when I was a child. But instead, she hypnotized me so she and some Organization agent could kidnap me and turn me in to his leader.”

Jinora poured Shinza a cup of tea, pressing the little clay cup into her hands, encouraging her to get something warm into her body.

“Korra helped me wake up and fight them off, but I had to hurt them to defend myself. And even then, I wouldn’t have made it out of there if Xia hadn’t come in time. In order to save me, she killed both of them and burned down the building.”

The lines in Jinora’s face deepened with concern. “How are you feeling?”

Shinza brushed her fingers over the sore, healing skin of her right arm as gently as she could. “Grateful,” she replied with a quivering voice. “Without Korra and Xia, I’d be halfway to who-knows-where. I have no idea what the Org would have done to me.”

“What else, honey?” Jinora encouraged.

Shinza took a small sip of tea, already feeling the ginger quelling her nauseous stomach. “Vindicated. And guilty. I broke Yanyu’s arms so she could never do to anyone else what she did to me. And I think I should feel sorry about it, but I don’t. And I hate myself for that.”

Lo Sang lifted her hand to cup Shinza’s shoulder, but stopped short, not wanting to touch the painful-looking bruise and cause her pain. “You got justice for yourself,” she murmured. “It was hard and ugly, but in that moment, maybe you didn’t have a choice.”

“Maybe,” Shinza supposed. “But I hurt the Org agent, too. I burned his face so badly he’ll probably never see again. And I don’t think he even had any strong feelings about the cause he was working for - it was just a job to him. I don’t think he deserved what I did to him.

“And then he let me go,” Shinza continued. “Even after I burned him. He said he would give me a head start, but because he won’t have delivered me to his superiors, they’d be out in full force.”

“Shinza.” She reached her bony hand across the breakfast table, offering her soft palm. Shinza weakly took hold of her hand. The old woman said, “No Avatar was ever perfect. Many have had to do hard things, make difficult choices, to keep themselves alive and to do their job. This was no different.”

“I want to be a good Avatar,” Shinza murmured. Tears stung her eyes. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“It’s unavoidable, child,” Jinora advised. “In the temples, we teach that harming others or taking lives is wrong. But we are privileged, because most of us will never have to make such hard decisions as the Avatar will have to do.”

Shinza considered that for a moment; her tea had cooled enough that she drank the rest of it in slow sips. Her stomach unknotted. If Jinora and Lo Sang, the two wisest and morally correct people she knew, sanctioned her actions, then maybe she was justified after all. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder what Amrit would think of all of this. Nero, too. 

“If the Organization is after me like Nobu said they’d be, then I need help,” Shinza reasoned. “More help than what just Korra and Xia alone can provide.”

Lo Sang scrunched her face in deep thought. “What if…”

“What?” Shinza murmured.

“Master Jinora,” she said. “You said that the link to the Avatar’s past lives was destroyed when the Raava spirit was ripped from Avatar Korra, right?”

“That’s correct.”

Lo Sang looked up at Shinza. “What if you could restore the link?”

Jinora pondered that for a moment. “I have traveled through the Spirit World many times,” she said. “I don’t know that there’s a way to restore the link. But… I don’t know that it’s impossible, either.”

She glanced at Shinza with her glimmering brown eyes. “I suppose we’ll have to give it a try.”

After breakfast, Shinza and Jinora headed to the meditation circle. Lo Sang had wanted to join them, but being so young and so inexperienced with the Spirit Wilds, she’d been tasked with assuming Jinora’s seat on the council until the elder returned - a great honor indeed. Shinza was concerned that Jinora may be too physically frail for the trip, but she felt it wasn’t her place to say anything about it.

The two sat across from each other, encircled by the ancient carved stones. The fragrant smoke of incense wafted between them. “Have you ever been to the Spirit World?” Jinora asked. 

Shinza crossed her legs and pressed her knuckles together at her chest. She thought of the spirit room, where she’d met Korra and Yeong for the first time. “I’m not sure. Maybe.”

“Believe me, you’d know if you had,” Jinora smirked playfully, settling in her place. “Before we go, there is something important you need to know. As the Avatar, you yourself are part spirit. The Spirit World is as much your home as the physical world is. Thus, it is your duty to keep the balance between the two and within the two individually. You are the bridge.”

Shinza reeled, taking a deep breath and exhaling. 

“It’s a lot to take in, I know,” Jinora said. “You might have thought that just the physical realm was overwhelming. But if we succeed in our mission today, then you’ll have all the wisdom and guidance you could ever need from your past lives.”

What did she have to lose at this point? Shinza sat up straight. “Okay. I’m ready.”

They both closed their eyes, breathing deeply and evenly. A few moments later, Shinza opened her eyes, finding she was sitting in a grassy area that looked a little like the meditation circle, or the sitting area in the spirit room. But the sky, the air, the energy… it was all different. She stood up and looked around for Jinora, but she didn’t see her.

A young girl approached from behind, clearing her throat. Shinza turned to face the girl, who she noted was probably a few years older than Lo Sang; she had short chestnut hair and large, familiar brown eyes. “Shinza, it’s me.”

Shinza squinted. “...Jinora? How are you so young?”

Jinora gestured at herself. “This is my spirit,” she explained. “How I see myself in my mind’s eye.”

Shinza’s elegant brows arched, and a little smirk appeared at the corner of her mouth. “That’s… _very_ cool.”

“Makes it easier to traverse the Wilds, anyway,” Jinora shrugged. “Just wish I could do this in the physical world. Oh, look! Here she comes.”

Jinora pointed in the distance at a figure that had appeared at the horizon line. Sooner than would have been possible on the physical plane, the figure appeared in front of them -- Korra. 

“Hey!” the past Avatar exclaimed, ensnaring Jinora in a tight hug. “I thought that was you I heard. It’s your turn again, by the way. Nice move.”

Then Korra approached Shinza. “Hey,” she said, a little softer. “You doing okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” Shinza replied, inclining her head toward her.

Korra’s vivid gaze swept over her. “Look, I’m sorry,” she said. “I feel responsible for the whole thing.”

“No, you were great!” Shinza contested. “If you hadn’t helped me out…”

“It’s my fault you were even in that position,” Korra explained. “When I renounced my role as the bridge between the two worlds, I cut off my link to the others. I didn’t think about how that would affect everyone who came after me. I’ve made things really hard for you, and I’m sorry.”

“Then maybe you can help us find a way to reconnect with your past lives,” Jinora interjected. 

Korra smirked. “Spirit Wilds adventure?”

“Spirit Wilds Adventure,” Jinora replied sagely. “Let’s go. Shinza, stay close to us. Things in the Spirit World are rarely what they seem.”

Shinza followed Korra and Jinora, keeping a lookout, but not even sure what to expect. Overhead, rays of what might have felt like the sun, only without heat, shone down on them. Suddenly curving upward where it hadn’t before just moments ago, the horizon loomed above them in the distance. Along the path before them grew gnarled, fat trees of all different shapes, their twisted branches jutting upward toward the living sunlight. The sky above them breathed in - fuschia like dragon fruit flesh, and breathed out - vivid sapphire blue. Angular, translucent green mountains cut into the respiring sky in the furthest distance; in the field the three of them traversed were violet flowers, not moving on the breeze, but rather on their own prehensile stalks, gaping openly at the three as they walked past.

“It’s strange, I know,” Jinora said, sticking close by.

Breathless, Shinza took it all in, experiencing a level of simultaneous vertigo and deja vu that nearly stopped her in her tracks. A part of her, deep inside, took in the landscape with an unexpected joy. “It’s not strange at all,” she murmured. “It feels like I know this place.”

The three traveled onward toward the curving horizon. Alongside them, a school of stingray-like spirits drifted by, slowly and gracefully undulating their wings to propel themselves forward. 

“So, do either of you know how exactly we’re going to restore the link?” Shinza inquired.

Korra let out a sheepish chuckle. “Uh… I mean, I kind of just thought we’d hike until we found some kind of clue or something.”

“I read something about a spirit once,” Jinora offered. “It’s called the Keeper. But… the book didn’t say much about it.”

Just then, Shinza felt a gentle tapping on her shoulder. Turning to her right, she nearly jumped out of her skin. A spirit walked beside her silently. It was tall - towering over the three of them; its amorphous, pudgy body, pale indigo in color, gave off a soothing lavender scent. Above the wooden mask of its face sprouted several leaves.

“Sorry, Miss,” it squeaked in a surprisingly small, childlike voice. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Are you the Avatar?”

“I am,” she replied, craning her neck to look way up into the spirit’s wooden face. It politely met her halfway, elongating its neck strangely. “My name is Shinza. What’s yours?”

“I’m a Kind Spirit!” it replied gleefully. Even though its mouth was still, Shinza could hear the cheer in its voice. “Are you here to help us?”

“I’m going to do my best,” Shinza replied. “Kind Spirit, can I ask you something? What do you need help with?”

It hung its head sadly. “The air is stinky in the physical world,” it replied. “We spirits liked it there at first, but now it hurts to breathe, and the humans are mean to my family. We moved back here so they couldn’t hurt us anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” Shinza murmured in reply. “I know things are difficult right now. I’m going to do my best.”

The spirit’s little mouth grinned even brighter. “You’re a very nice lady. I want to help you, too.”

The distance between the three of them and the grove of trees the Kind Spirit had mentioned seemed impossible to traverse, but just as Korra had come from miles away in what felt like seconds to greet them, they arrived quickly at the edge of the trees.

“Everyone keep your guard up,” Korra warned. They entered the thicket of trees. The trees seemed to breathe here just the same as the sky above them did.

“This is the strangest forest I’ve ever seen,” Jinora marveled, glancing upward. Shinza followed her gaze, noticing the strange fruits that hung from the branches overhead, even larger than the melons that grew in the temple’s greenhouse. They looked like giant soap bubbles. Their iridescent surfaces swirled serenely. 

“This way,” Korra called out. “The Kind Spirit said to look for a ridge; I think it’s just up ahead.”

They followed Korra uphill to the ridge, which looked out over a vast expanse of fog. Below them, the ground suddenly trembled. The three of them fell to their knees.

Shinza went on alert, steadying herself with one hand on the mossy ground. “What’s happening?”

“I don’t know,” Korra replied. 

The trembling picked up. The ground beneath them tilted until they slid back down the ridge, each of them hollering and desperately gripping onto nearby tree roots. “Hang on!” Korra shouted. But just as quickly as the earthquake began, it stopped. The three of them paused and then slowly stood, wary of another quake. But the ground seemed to have stilled for now. In front of them, the ground had reshaped into a massive, stag-shaped head, in the side of which blinked an enormous eye. Its pupil narrowed as it took in the view of the three women.

_“Who disturbs the Keeper?”_ the gargantuan spirit communicated mouthlessly. 

“I do,” Shinza blurted, before Korra could speak. “Great spirit, I’m the Avatar, and I need your help. If I’m going to protect your world and the physical world, and keep them both in harmony, I need to restore the link to my past lives.”

The spirit said nothing. Korra stepped up and opened her mouth to say something brash, but the spirit spoke again instead.

_“We have waited for you, Avatar,”_ it said. _“All of us.”_ Its giant eye looked upward into its own groves, which Shinza now understood were something like its horns. The bubbles, she realized, were not bubbles at all, but the spirits of the Avatars that had come before, kept safe in the Keeper’s grove. _“I have kept them for you.”_

Shinza took a cleansing breath and cocked her fist back --

“Your bending won’t work here,” Korra called, and then jumped as high as she could to try to knock a bubble out of the tree. Her fingertips just barely touched it. 

“Jinora!” Shinza beckoned. “Can you get on my shoulders?” The young one raced over; Shinza knelt, and Jinora saddled herself on her shoulders. Standing, the two of them were just tall enough for Jinora to gently pluck one of the bubbles from the trees. It was much heavier than it looked, and instead of floating serenely downward, it fell to the ground with a wet, mushy sound. Nothing happened. Shinza knelt again and Jinora slipped lithely onto her feet. 

“This is going to take forever,” Shinza sighed, and then implored, “Keeper! Please help us.”

The spirit obliged. Another earthquake, stronger than the last, rocked the grove. Then, the rumbling stopped, and the great spirit was still again. Shinza saw for just a second that the bubbles had all fallen from the branches. Then came a blinding white light. The sky flashed. The distant mountains sang.

The past Avatars emerged, thousands of them, lining up in a queue that stretched hundreds of miles out into the curving distance. Shinza wept, overwhelmed by a sense of utmost warmth and love that permeated the air and swirled around her. Beside her, Jinora and Korra clung to each other. “We did it,” whispered the young one. Korra kissed her temple and then broke away from her, taking her place near the end of the line. Avatar Aang, who was straightening out his robes, elbowed her jovially. “Hey,” he whispered. “Good to see you.”

From the edge of the treeline came a short, rotund figure with a long, gray beard, carrying baby Yeong. The man inclined his head in the direction of the group, offered a mirthful wink, and set Yeong onto his little feet. The boy toddled over to Korra, who coaxed him into his position. Then, looking proud and a little misty-eyed, Korra held out her hand to Shinza.

“Come on,” she whispered. “Take your place.”

With trembling hands, Shinza wiped the tears from her face and stepped forward. As soon as she fell in line beside Yeong, a light emanated from the head of the queue, quick and powerful as lightning. The eyes of each of the past Avatars in turn began to glow in succession until the light reached Shinza.

She was one with her past lives, one with Raava again.

_“We are with you,”_ Shinza heard the chorus of voices. There were thousands, but somehow, she could pick out each one individually. She felt the feelings of each of them, remembered important moments from each of their lives. Korra learning spiritbending; Aang leaving his home in the Southern Air Temple for the last time; Roku perishing in a volcanic eruption; Kyoshi severing her island from the mainland and watching Chin the Conqueror fall to his death. On and on, the memories and feelings came. _“We are one.”_

“We are one,” Shinza whispered as Raava’s light receded from each of them back down the line. Aang leaned forward to grab Shinza’s attention. “Hey. He wants to talk to you.”

Shinza followed Aang’s pointing finger and saw that a young man was approaching. He appeared to be around Shinza’s age, with long, dark hair and copper-colored eyes. He wore the simple, modest robes of the ancient people of the Fire Nation - her ancestors.

“Hi, Wan,” Shinza murmured. 

He smiled warmly. “It never stops being awesome meeting another fire-born.”

“It feels like we’ve already met,” she replied. It was impossible to fathom that he was standing here in front of her but had existed in the physical world some thousands of years ago. And yet she knew it to be true.  
Wan replied, “We have. You know all of us, and we know you.”

He cast his gaze to Korra, who was dabbing at the corners of her eyes. Wan patted her shoulder. “You made it right.”

Then he turned his attention back to Shinza. “Now you have the knowledge and memories of all of your past lives,” he advised. “When you master the Avatar State, you’ll be able to tap into the cosmic energy that connects us all. For now, I have a gift that may help you during troubling times.”

Shinza didn’t know what to say. This experience had been the best gift she ever could have received. “What is it?”

“Energybending,” Wan replied, bringing his right thumb to the center of her forehead and his left hand down on her shoulder. “You can use this ability to take away someone’s bending. But remember that only a lion turtle can restore those abilities, and there is only one left.”

He closed his eyes. Shinza’s body buzzed as Wan imbued her with the power of energybending. It felt as though he were pouring controlled, smooth liquid lightning into her. Then he was finished, and he stepped away. “If you need anything from any of us,” he said, gesturing at the line to his left, “You know where to find us.”

Shinza bowed deeply to Wan, who patted her shoulder affectionately. He left her with one last smile and headed off toward the horizon. Each Avatar in turn dissipated until only Korra and Shinza were left.

Jinora rushed forward, gesturing for a hug. Korra ensnared them both in a back-breaking embrace, lifting them both off the ground. “This was the most fun I’ve had in decades!” 

Once her feet found the ground, Shinza smoothed the fabric of her tunic. “I don’t even know what to say. Thank you again.”

Korra grinned. “Anytime, dude.”

“I hate to say this, but we should probably get going,” Jinora pointed out. 

The three of them said their goodbyes. Jinora and Shinza made their way back to the grassy circle and back to their bodies. The temple was quiet, and the lavender twilight sky twinkled with the first stars of the night. Shinza took a moment before she stood, curling her arms around her bent knees and taking it all in. She felt stronger and more capable than she ever had. As she gazed out into the distance toward the main courtyard, her fingertips remembered each time she had touched the marble archway.


	12. Chapter 6: Kismet [Book 2: Air]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day of her mastery test arrives, and Shinza feels ready. What she's not ready for is what comes after.

With the events of Gaoling behind her, and with her connection to her past lives reestablished, Shinza finally had time to focus solely on her airbending. Like her breathing, meditation, and yoga exercises, bending the air also came easily to her, due to her “air nomad’s spirit,” as Lo Sang said. Shinza came to each lesson with a clear head and a free spirit; during lessons and sparring matches, as her instructor had taught her, she constantly sought the path of least resistance, readily changing direction at a moment’s notice. She’d had little trouble with the gates exercise, and the obstacle course, though tough even for more experienced airbenders, didn’t seem like much of a feat to Shinza, who nimbly dodged the sandbags Jinora and Lo Sang dropped on her, ziplined herself down a long rope with the help of airbending, and climbed the rock face without a second thought as to the vast distance between her and the base of the mountain. Airball, however, was a different story.

“Okay, how about this?” Lo Sang called from halfway down the court, lithely hopping from post to post as if they were stepping stones set in the ground. “You beat me, and I’ll nominate you for the mastery test.”

Shinza paused, balancing on the two-foot wooden post in front of her goal. In her left hand spun the airball, driven by the current she produced. She knew she was good at airbending, and she’d been practicing a move she’d created on her own, knowing she wouldn’t have time to master all thirty-six forms. But she’d never been an athlete, and Lo Sang had been regularly kicking her ass on the court for weeks; she wasn’t sure this time would be any different. Or maybe, with the mastery test as motivation, she’d finally hold her own. “Okay, you’re on!”

Without warning, she put her whole body weight behind the airball, sending it spinning toward Lo Sang’s goal at the other end of the court. The young one leapt upward, as if she’d been born in the sky, and batted the ball with ease back toward Shinza without even touching it, and with twice as much velocity. On a ten-cent piece, Shinza maneuvered herself in front of the ball just before it could make it past her right shoulder, making a full turn and launching the ball back.

“The flourish was a little unnecessa–!” Lo Sang stopped short as the ball sailed over her head and through the goal, leaving the wooden middle spinning.

Shinza’s jaw dropped. Then she burst into a grin. “I believe that’s 1-0!”

Lo Sang was busy picking up her jaw. “You distracted me!” she hollered. “Not fair. Try again.”

“It absolutely _was_ fair,” Shinza chuckled. “Admit it. You weren’t ready and I got you.”

“Okay, fine,” Lo Sang relented, retrieving the ball and tossing it weightlessly between her hands. “Best two out of three.”

Shinza’s dark brows arched. “You said if I beat you, you’d nominate me.”

Lo Sang’s eyes narrowed visibly from down the court. “Humor me,” she said. “It could have been a fluke. Admit _that,_ grandma.”

Shinza nodded. “Okay then. Bring it on!” She gestured for Lo Sang to give it her best shot.

And she did. The ball came hurtling toward Shinza nearly faster than she could think to maneuver; but instinct took over, guiding Shinza to backbend over toward her post. By the time she righted herself, the ball was at face-level. With a deep breath and a powerful gust of wind, she sent back what Lo Sang had doled out. The young one leapt as high and fast as she could, but the ball still _thunked_ into the goal, and the middle spun again.

Shinza shrieked in delight, surprising both of them.

“Wow,” Lo Sang muttered, briefly taken over by defeat, but then remembering the point of it all. Shinza had beaten her more than once; two out of three, as she’d prescribed. She was ready for the mastery test. She hopped weightlessly from post to post until she reached Shinza’s end. “Congratulations,” she smirked. “You ready to be tested?”

Before their evening meal, they took a walk along the northern face of the mountain, along the way passing the cliffside where Shinza had first gone into the Avatar state - where she’d learned the truth about her abilities. Shinza paused and put her hand up to the rock face. Lo Sang readied herself to comfort her, but she sensed a resolve in her as she took her hand away.

“How are you feeling?” Lo Sang inquired as they continued to the pond - a tranquil body of clear, cool water, whose bank backed up to the base of the temple.

“I’m okay,” Shinza said honestly. “I’ve learned a lot here - so much more than I thought I would. I’m feeling good about what’s next.” She slipped down the shallow stairs, removing her boots and rolling up her pants. Sticking her pale feet in the water, she bent over to gaze into the water, at the meticulously-placed tiles that made up the bottom of the pond.

Lo Sang did the same, leaving her small boots next to Shinza’s and coming to sit beside her. The breeze rustled a nearby tree which shed several leaves into the pond. A thought sat on the tip of her tongue, but she said nothing.

“What?” Shinza inquired, as if reading her mind.

Lo Sang met her gaze for half a second and then looked away, out into the expanse of mountains miles off in the distance. “Nothing. It’s… I don’t want to say.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Shinza replied softly. “But I won’t tell anyone if you do.”

Lo Sang shifted just a millimeter closer. “I’m just going to miss you, is all,” she confessed. “It’s not right for a teacher to have become so attached to a student - especially one whose sole duty is to leave and do great things. It goes against everything I was taught.”

Shinza cast her warm red-brown gaze down at her young teacher. “I don’t think it’s a bad thing,” she soothed. “How do you find the motivation to teach, or _care,_ if you don’t get attached?”

Lo Sang smiled sadly, but didn’t say anything for a while. Shinza disturbed the water with her feet, stretching her toes. A few moments passed, and Lo Sang spoke again. “Do you have siblings?”

“No,” Shinza replied, squinting as she tried to follow Lo Sang’s train of thought. The air nomads historically hadn’t assigned much value to the notion of blood relations the way the rest of the world had, and for good reason. “I’m an only child. Why?”

Lo Sang leaned forward and gazed at her own rippling reflection in the water - snowy hair, darting grey eyes. “I don’t know,” she replied. “We don’t have siblings or parents in the temples - the nuns raise us. And that’s okay, because we’re one big family in a way. Jinora is technically my great-grandmother, but it doesn’t really matter. She’s kind of everyone’s great-grandmother. But sometimes I wonder what it’d be like to have a sister, you know? A sister who was just mine.”

Shinza softened, drawing the young one in toward her with a sweep of her arm.

“I was always happy being an only child,” she admitted. “I never wished I had siblings. But now I see what I missed out on. If I’d had a sister, I would hope she’d be just like you.”

Lo Sang looked up at her with a grin. “Really?”

“Well, yeah. You’re brilliant, calm, poised; you’re a master airbender, teaching the avatar, and you’re not even ten years old. You’re kind and compassionate… annoying as can be, but amazing. And you know what else? You’re Jinora’s great-granddaughter, and I was once Avatar Aang. So… in some way, I think we _are_ sisters.”

Lo Sang hugged Shinza as tight around the middle as she could.

The test came the next morning - sooner than Shinza had expected. But since she felt she was ready, the elders didn’t see a reason not to proceed right away. Lo Sang helped Shinza tie the sash around her ceremonial tunic, crouching low to straighten the seams, even though she knew they’d get messed up again in just a few moments. “Are you nervous?”

Shinza snorted. “I think you’re more nervous than I am.”

Lo Sang straightened up tall. “I am not.”

“Whatever you say,” she replied with a smirk, leaning her head back and gathering all her shiny black locks into a top knot. To Lo Sang’s reflection in the mirror, she said, “I’m feeling okay. I have a handle on my form - I think you’ll really like it.”

Shinza felt fortunate to feel so at ease; she wasn’t sure she could endure the same feeling she’d had just before and after her firebending test.

Lo Sang gave a pleased smile, her flickering gaze lingering on her student, who she knew would make her proud. Then she ducked out of the dressing room, peeking her head back in a moment later. “They’re ready for you.”

She took one final cleansing breath, deliberately avoiding looking in the mirror so that she could slide into the state of mind she’d need to pass the test. Outside the room, the council of elders had taken their places in the main courtyard; Jinora sat in the middle of a long bench, flanked by two others on each side. Lo Sang had settled on the ground, cross-legged, at Jinora’s feet.

Shinza bowed deeply to the council.

“Avatar Shinza,” Jinora greeted, her voice surprisingly loud and authoritative. “We gather to judge you on your airbending mastery. Given that you have been here for less time than it takes to master the thirty-six forms, I assume you’ve mastered the basics and perfected a form of your own?”

“Yes, Master Jinora,” Shinza replied.

“Begin then, child.”

Shinza inclined her head again and began. She ran through a number of forms, seemingly random in order, but strung together seamlessly in a carefully choreographed performance. Her breathing remained steady, and amid the constant spinning, she had lost sight of the panel - she was alone with her bending, having found freedom within the space she occupied. Then, at last, she closed out with a circling of her arms to seal her energy.

Three of the council members applauded, but the rest remained still, including Jinora. “Proceed with your new form.”

“I need an assistant,” Shinza announced. “Master Lo Sang, would you please?”

Intrigued, Lo Sang puffed herself to her feet and sprinted toward Shinza, who gestured for her to move a couple yards away. “Attack me,” Shinza instructed.

Lo Sang spun nimbly on her little feet once, twice, three times, stopping with precision and thrusting the palms of her hands forward, generating a cannon-like gust of wind that tore toward Shinza.

With a rapid twisting motion of her arms, Shinza solidified the air in front of her, creating an invisible wall that dispelled Lo Sang’s cannon-gust; behind the wall, not a hair on Shinza’s head moved.

Lo Sang broke into a wide grin. Then she sprinted toward the wall, stopping short and holding out her hand. She brushed her fingers against it, relishing the feel - like touching breath. It was invisible, soft, and yet an incredible defensive technique.

“How you you find, Master Lo Sang?” Jinora inquired.

Dutifully, Lo Sang turned to the council, hands behind her back and standing up proud and tall. “The wall holds. I find my student fully understands the philosophy of airbending and integrates it into her practice. She has mastered her basics, and she has created a form that embodies the doctrine of our Air Nomad ancestors and of our Air Nation: defense first.”

Jinora let her detached facade fall, and her eyes crinkled as she smiled. “Then, the Avatar passes the mastery test. Excellent work, both of you.”

Lo Sang hollered and rocketed into the air, twisting in elation and floating back down to the ground. “You did it!”

“I told you I’d make you proud,” Shinza murmured. Lo Sang looked up, cupping her hand around her mouth and standing on her tiptoes to whisper something to Shinza, who nodded.

Lo Sang took a running start and hopped onto her air skates; Shinza produced a solid panel of air, the shape of which was unknown to the council until Lo Sang leapt up onto it, balancing on what seemed to be a ledge. Then she fell forward, skating smoothly down a curve and back up a symmetrical curve on the other side, coming to perch on the opposite ledge. She repeated the motion over and over again, clearly tickled. Shinza herself giggled, casting a glance at the council, who all seemed to be enjoying the moment too.

At last, as the sun began to set, the council disbanded. Shinza headed toward the dining hall herself, but Lo Sang stopped her.

“When I became a master, I got a whole ceremony and my tattoos,” she said. “But those things are only for Air Nation natives.”

Shinza shrugged. “It’s okay. I don’t need a fancy commemoration or anything. I didn’t get anything special when I passed my firebending test, either.”

“But still,” Lo Sang protested softly. “You deserve a little something special. You have to master _four_ elements, after all.”

Unsure where Lo Sang was going with this, Shinza cocked her head.

“Kneel,” Lo Sang instructed, mimicking her best authoritative-Jinora voice. “Please.”

Shinza obeyed. Lo Sang lifted her index finger to the Avatar’s forehead and lovingly, deliberately traced the outline of an arrow on her brow. Then she took her hands and held them out, palms down, tracing a long path down her arms that terminated in an arrow on the back of each palm. Lastly, she gestured for Shinza to stand. She traced lines down her legs, ending with arrows on the tops of her feet.

“There,” Lo Sang said as she stood. “I think that’s better, don’t you?”

Shinza bit her lip to stop it from quivering, then slipped her arm around the young girl’s shoulders. “You’re the best.”

Lo Sang grinned and curled her arm around Shinza’s waist. Together, they made their way to the dining hall. “That’s what sisters are for.”

At sunrise the next morning, the temple’s congregation gathered at the courtyard to see Shinza off. It had been a long nine months, and yet it seemed to her like just yesterday, she had arrived here to this same scene; except now, the faces of the strangers who had first greeted her were familiar to her. Shinza had been allowed to keep the robes she’d worn to her test - a parting gift, Jinora had called it. She’d been keenly aware of the fact that Shinza’s Fire Nation clothes, the ones she’d worn to visit her family, had been irreparably damaged in Gaoling.

Shinza’s stomach knotted. She felt readier than she thought she would; now that the link to her past lives had been restored, she felt stronger and more confident than ever. But leaving Lo Sang and Jinora, after all they’d been through together, was bittersweet.

Lo Sang embraced Shinza one last time. Her heart melted when she heard little sniffs.

“We’ll see each other again,” Shinza whispered, rubbing her back.

Lo Sang replied in her high, sweet voice, “I know.” Then she stood tall, letting the wind rustle the fine white hairs that framed her face, and moved aside so that Jinora could move in.

The elder held the Avatar at arms’ length, studying her seemingly against an invisible portrait of who she’d been when she first arrived. “My dear, it has been a true honor,” she said, and then gathered Shinza into a gentle hug. “Perhaps we’ll meet again in the Spirit World. Now, go. Call your dragon - I’m sure your waterbending teacher is eager to meet you.”

Shinza hadn’t thought much on what came next; she’d been engrossed in her testing. “Who is it?” she asked. “What are they like?”

Jinora’s smile fell. “I don’t know, honey.”

Feeling the blood run out of her face, Shinza masked the rising panic she felt. How had she not thought to find herself a waterbending teacher? How could she have missed such a crucial step? She thought back to when she’d left the Island of the Sun Warriors, and realized that it had been Amrit who had found Lo Sang. With a pang in her heart, she realized she was on her own. She’d have to get to the North Pole - or the South Pole; she wasn’t even sure which place she should go to - and regroup. Resolutely, she nodded to Jinora and Lo Sang, stuck her index finger and thumb into her mouth, and whistled loudly for Xia.

The dragon didn’t appear right away, which wasn’t unusual. While she waited, she delicately traced the healed tattoo on her arm, feathering her fingertips over the black lines that made up Xia’s body. After a few more moments, Shinza turned to face the others, who had begun to grow restless. “She uh… she’s usually a couple seconds late.” But the seconds ticked by and turned into minutes. Lo Sang shuffled on her booted feet.

Shinza began to worry. Had Xia been shot down? Sweat beaded along her hairline.

“Look, there!” someone shouted. Xia burst through the clouds, carrying a rider on her back. But who…? Shinza squinted, and then yelped with joy, clapping her hands over her mouth.

Amrit rode proudly on the back of the dragon, his eager grin visible even from a distance. Xia flew with such velocity that she had to circle once or twice before touching down on the courtyard, and the wait was too long for Shinza to bear. Once Xia landed, Amrit slid elegantly off the dragon’s back. Shinza abandoned her little pack of belongings and leapt into his arms, unable to think to do anything else but to seek him in such a way. His breath left him and he curled his muscled arms around her lithe body, nearly tipping over, but righting them both with ease. She squeezed him tighter than she thought she could, and he reciprocated.

“Hey,” his voice quivered with emotion. “You okay?”

“Don’t let me go,” she responded, letting her tears flow freely.

He squeezed tighter. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Then she laughed. And he laughed. She couldn’t have thought of anything more perfect than Amrit showing up when she needed him most. Finally, Shinza felt for the ground with her toes, and they both straightened themselves out, sizing each other up.

“What are you doing here?” she sniffed. Her cheeks ached from the width of her smile. Relief and joy coursed through her veins. Whatever anxiety she’d felt moments ago was gone. She regarded him openly - he wore his finest clothing, even a thick cape to keep the mountain’s draft away from his bare, copper skin. On his face were painted the familiar ochre markings. “You look so fancy.”

“I, uh… missed you,” he confessed sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck. His onyx eyes took her in. She looked like an entirely different woman; wiser, more confident. Remembering the way she and Xia had bonded when they’d first met, he couldn’t say he was surprised at the tattoo that covered her entire right arm. She’d always had impeccable posture, but now, as he regarded her, he felt her unmistakable presence as the Avatar. “And I’m here to ask for a job.”

Shinza’ brows furrowed. “I don’t understand.”

“Who’s looking out for you?” he inquired. “Do you have a waterbending teacher?”

“No, I don’t,” she replied, sobering.

“I may have found someone to teach you,” Amrit said. “I figured you were probably close to finishing your training here, so I took the liberty. I don’t have a resume or anything, but I have your back. I want to help you however I can.”

Shinza inquired softly, “What about your students? And your family?”

“My parents have my sister’s kids to look after. My students have all graduated, and the next round will be too young to start for a few years yet. Look… when you first came to the Island, I knew without a single grain of doubt that I was meant to help you. And after you left, things didn’t feel the same.”

She studied him, broad-shouldered, stating his case. While flattered that he felt the need to explain it at all, she knew kismet when she felt it. All the same, she pretended to deliberate.

Then she stuck her hand out with a smirk. “Team Avatar?”

Visibly relaxing, Amrit grinned, ignored her hand, and instead gathered her up in his arms again. “Team Avatar.”

From behind them, a small voice demanded, “So wait, who _is_ this guy?”

Having forgotten they weren’t alone, Shinza turned to Lo Sang. “This is Amrit Han,” she said. “He was my firebending teacher. Amrit,” she said, turning to him and gesturing, “Please meet Masters Jinora and Lo Sang.”

“It’s my utmost pleasure,” said Jinora, inclining her head. As soon as Amrit’s gaze swept onto Lo Sang, however, the little one’s eyes went wide and her cheeks blossomed with a deep red blush. “Wow. You’re _really_ handsome.”

“Right?” Shinza sounded. “You could just punch him.”

“I… hang on, what?” Amrit chuckled, a confused smile spreading over his face.

“On that note, Xia’s waiting,” Shinza cued, gathering her pack. The two mounted the dragon’s back and held on tight as Xia got a running start and leapt off the ground, rocketing northward. Shinza looked back with ease, a friend to the open air now, and sent her love back to the temple.


End file.
